#She just sort of abandons Hunter and then forgets about him

[mushroominaforest]

Hunter wakes up one morning to realize their sister has left the shelter without waking them up. Weird…

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Spinoff Story Vampire & Vampire Hunter part 16

Warnings: lots of blood, mentioned gore, dead human, vampire gone feral

This reveals a little more of Alex's past history, and how he and Anisa first became friends.

Flashback: How Anisa found Alex after he was Turned

Blood. She smelled blood. And a lot of it. Curious, considering she was in the middle of the human town shopping. Most vampires around these parts knew to make their kills discreet to avoid attracting vampire hunters.

Anisa sniffed the air again, just to check. And yes, that was definitely human blood. She decided to investigate, following the scent a few blocks down to an old abandoned building that the occasional homeless human took shelter in. The scent was strongest there, coming from a broken glass window. How strange.

As she crept closer, she could hear... crying? Was it an injured human in need of help?

Worry twisted her gut in knots. What on earth was she about to walk into?! She considered leaving and forgetting about this altogether -- after all, she was a busy woman with places to be, and being nosy could get her in more trouble than it was worth to sate her curiosity -- but she knew that decision would haunt her, knowing she could have helped someone but chose not to.

Anisa was an ancient vampire, Turned many centuries ago. Normally vampires her age would have long grown cold and indifferent to the world and its sufferings, learning it was best not to intervene with fate and to let things play out naturally...

But Anisa had always been a kind and patient soul, despite all the bloodshed and death she had bore witness to. And while most vampires would find immortal life soon to be dull and grow bored of interacting with humans aside from feeding on them, they never ceased to amaze her. How human logic worked, how they thought and viewed the world through their mortal lenses... how human lives were nothing but a whisper in the passage of time, a candle flame that would quickly dim and be snuffed out far too soon.

She'd always admired how resilient humans were, and it never stopped fascinating her whenever she talked to them. She did her best to help humans out when she could, give the homeless some extra coins to live off of or donate generous sums to charity.

Anisa's brow furrowed. She finally made her choice. She couldn't walk away knowing someone was clearly in pain and suffering greatly. And maybe it was someone she knew, considering how popular and well-liked she was among the homeless for her generosity and tender ways. She could offer help. Or at least, put whatever creature was crying out of its misery, if its life was too far gone to be saved.

Anisa hesitated, then circled around to the front of the abandoned building, silently slipping in through the busted wooden door, splintered and weathered from exposure to the outside elements. She gagged at the smell that hit her, the overwhelming scent of blood in the air, metallic and cloying. Despite being a vampire who depended on it for survival, there was a point when the scent was sickeningly sweet, and no longer enjoyable. Like drinking too much alcohol.

Anisa made her way through the clutter littering the floor of the building, the remains of old messy fireplaces from past homeless residents along with discarded and abandoned tents and sleeping bags, collecting dust where they rested. It was a large place with two stories, and the reeking smell came from the top level, along with the crying -- a sort of muffled wailing like a creature in unimaginable pain.

Anisa shivered uneasily, climbing up the creaky wooden stairs to investigate. She'd mentally braced and prepared herself for a nasty sight, but she never, never would have expected what she saw.

At the top of the stairs, she froze, eyes widening.

There, sitting in the middle of the room, with his back facing her, was a young man, covered in blood, blood that was spilled all over the floor around him in nauseating smears, signs of a fierce struggle. And though the man's hunched form partially blocked her view, she could see there was a lifeless human body sprawled in front of him.

Anisa was hit with a sudden pang of sympathy, snapping her out of the initial shock, and she cautiously approached. She knew what was happening, now. It must be a young vampire's first real kill.

And the crying, she realized, wasn't coming from an injured animal or human - it was coming from him. The young man, barely more than a boy. Doubled over on himself and sobbing wretchedly, shaking and staring down at his bloodstained hands and the limp body in front of him.

Anisa came to stand next to him to get a better look at his face. Blood was all around his mouth, his eyes were blown huge and filled with tears that spilled out and rolled down his filthy cheeks. Poor thing looked absolutely horrified by what he'd done. And she could hardly blame him; there was blood everywhere, a kill clearly made by a vampire who had no idea what they were doing, no idea how to properly feed. It was a messy, gruesome sight. So much precious blood gone to waste, ruined as it soaked into the floorboards.

The victim was clearly a homeless man, dressed in ratty clothes and with mangy, unkempt hair.

"Darling, whatever happened here?" Anisa asked softly, and lowered herself to her knees next to the shaking boy, gently touching his shoulder.

The young vampire flinched hard, head snapping over to look at her for the first time, eyes wide and wild with terror and horror. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but he couldn't seem to find words, glancing between her and the dead human he'd killed. He was clearly in shock.

Anisa wasn't sure how he'd react, but she carefully grabbed him and pulled him into her arms to comfort him, holding him tight and rocking him gently back and forth, hoping to soothe his fear.

"Oh sweetheart, this is your first time, isn't it?" she murmured into his ear. The poor man was trembling violently against her, seeming so frail in this moment, despite being a vampire. "What's your name, little one?"

"A-A-Alex," the boy stammered, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper. "I-I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean to---oh gosh I killed someone. I just killed someone." He started babbling inconsolably, spiraling and speaking in circles.

"Shhh, it's all right, the hunger gets to all of us sometimes. We all go feral at least once in our lifetime." Anisa shifted Alex in her arms to block his view from the drained corpse, forcing the shivering vampire to look at her instead.

"You're new to this aren't you?" she murmured, wiping a drop of blood from his pale cheek.

"I-I-I don't... I d-don't know what happened," Alex rasped weakly. "I thought... thought I had it under control..." He was still shivering like a leaf, clinging desperately to Anisa's shirt like a lifeline. He buried his head into her neck and let out another heart-wrenching wail, sobs wracking his whole form.

Anisa rubbed his back soothingly, sitting in the pool of blood with him and ignoring how it soaked into her clothes. "Where is your Sire?" She asked softly. "Did he not teach you?"

"I'm alone," Alex croaked. "I don't know what a 'Sire' is..."

A stab of anger pierced through Anisa's sympathy. Who would Turn a new vampire and leave them on the streets to fend for themself?! What kind of cruel vampire would do that to someone?

The newblood vampire in her arms... if it was true that no one had taken the time to show him how to be a proper vampire, no wonder he snapped and went feral. Alex must feel so alone, with no idea what was happening to him, the unnatural changes his body was going through. It must be so new to him, terrifying.

Anisa untangled the youngster from her shirt, standing up and offering a kind hand. "You can come with me, sweetheart... I will take care of you. You won't have to go through these changes alone."

Alex glanced from her outstretched hand to her face, with a look so openly hopeful it made Anisa's heart ache. Who could abandon someone like him? It would have only been a matter of time before he was found and killed by hunters.

Alex hesitated, but eventually placed his trembling, bloody hand in hers, letting her pull him to his feet. “T-Thank you,” he whispered, then let out another hiccuping sob.

Anisa's eyes were soft and welcoming as she gently brushed his jaw with a finger, smearing human blood across his stained skin. “Don't worry, little one… I'll take wonderful care of you,” she whispered back, and smiled, fangs showing. “I'll show you how to be a vampire.”

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings @mj-or-say10

@tippytappytyping

[bleakfated]

ideas for the saviors verses because i need to write them down so i dont forget my brain doesn't yeet them into the abyss before i actually update things

sidney - i feel like he just vibes because his sisters prefer to not hunt with him and life on the road with random hunter guy dude bros that he sort of likes from time to time isnt the same. he's hardened by teegan's death at the hands of ava wilson enough to be more attune with the thinking that any monster is a monster

cam - something with his mom?? maybe a timeline where she faked her own death to cut ties with him. maybe even joined the saviors herself and was a monster casualty? some sort of way to let him know about the saviors... or teddy is freshly joined when they meet and convinces him to join teddy - there is heartbreak in this man and i am not sure where it is from just yet, other than his family. this makes him join in a revenge related arc as well

alyssa - AN OBVIOUS OPTION. sometime she finds out the truth about sam not actually killing jess. she abandons school and wants to kill monsters so people like her sister don't have to die. some sort of angst about what sam and dean do not being enough

brady - okay i have barely explored human brady like resurrection or not in a demon wise but i just -- him having a pathway makes sense because otherwise this boy is so lost he doesn't know what way up is. he's the most maybe here.

[cockslutpadalecki]

Mine

Summary: When Sam finds out Dean has been harbouring a little crush on his long term girlfriend, he has a very unique way of showing Dean that she belongs to him.

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader (unrequited).

Words: 1.2K.

Warnings: unrequited feelings, explicit sexual content, voyeurism, consensual amateur pornography, dom!Sam (sort of), 18+.

A/N: Formerly a Patron exclusive. Written from Dean’s POV. Beta: @princessmisery666​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine.

I drop the case of beer and pizza onto the War Room table, eyeing the pile of never ending research fanned out across the map of the world below it.

“Sammy?” I call, my voice echoing back to me. “Y/N?”

Nothing. How odd. 

I left them in this exact spot, noses deep in the books and ancient texts they abandoned. They couldn’t have— no, I’d hear her moaning down the corridor. Those soft, little whimpers that carry through the silence, and the desperate pleas tumbling from her lips as she pleads with Sam to fuck her harder.

I shake my head, pushing those thoughts away, and set about trying to tidy a little in an attempt to stop myself from imagining her sprawled out on the table, my cock buried to the hilt inside her pussy. 

Jeez Dean, get a fucking grip.

My cell vibrates in my pocket, pulling me from my reverie. I hurriedly fish it out and at the sight of the name flashing on the screen, I cough and hit green. Shame heats my cheeks. “Hey, where’d you go? Pizza’s gonna go cold, even got extra jalapenos for Y/N.”

The line is crackly and distant, but I can just about make Sam out. “I’m sure you’ll manage to eat our share before it does,” he makes a point of commenting. “But we got a lead about the case, and went to check it out.”

“You need me to follow up?” I ask, fingering the keys in my pocket.

“Nah, it’s fine. We got it,” Sam explains and my fingers retreat. “I just sent over a video and a couple of photos to my email though, are you okay to take a look? Think it could just be a rugaru after all.”

“Sure thing dude. I’ll call you when I know more.” I hang up, drop my cell onto the table and reach for a bottle of beer. Air hisses out as I unscrew the cap and chuck it onto the stack of books and papers.

Sam’s laptop remains open, but the screen is off, so I quickly press enter and the computer whirrs to life. I’m not concentrating as the screen boots up, brightness set at full volume until I’ve taken a large swig of Margiekugel’s finest.

I swallow deeply. “Right, let's do this,” I mutter to myself and finally glance up. Emails are already open.

Huh, that’s weird. I swear Sammy said he’d just sent them. My eyes hover over the attachments, thumbnails too small to pinpoint anything substantial, so I click on the video and let it maximise. Instantly I’m confused— this has been shot from inside the bunker. Right where I’m sitting in fact; the illuminated table is a dead giveaway. Curiosity gets the better of me and I find myself pressing play.

I realise my mistake the moment the timer begins to count down.

01:43.

I should probably stop it.

01:42.

Dean, dude, press stop.

01:41.

Y/N is face down and letting out the very moans that started this off in the first place. She was just Sam’s girlfriend. My friend. Someone I could kick back with, laugh at stupid jokes with. She was fun to be around, and when shit usually hit the fan in terms of hunts, she always had our backs. She knew how to wield a gun, behead a vamp— all the traits you’d expect from a seasoned hunter, and I admired the shit out of her for it.

Everything was as perfect as it could be.

Then I heard her one night— tiny, breathless gasps at first, until her screams pulsed in my ears long after they had finished. Just like when you stand too close to a speaker at a rock concert and the dull thump of the bass vibrates inside your skull for hours. I couldn’t forget the sounds she made no matter how much I attempted it, and trust me, I damn well tried. Every girl I picked up in shady bars managed to mask it, for all of five minutes, until her light moans bled into theirs and I began picturing her face as I came. I stopped frequenting bars after that.

By that point, when I only had my hand and a jumbo sized bottle of lube for company. I made any excuse to make myself scarce when they started fucking, even if it was 3am and I had to drive us across two states to slay a kitsune the next morning.

I can’t see Sam, but from the distinct grunts coming from behind the camera, I assume it’s him as he fucks into her with reckless abandon, her ass rippling from the force of his thrusts.

“Whose pussy is this?” Sam growls. Using his spare hand curled around her hip, he pulls her back onto his cock roughly, which elicits the hottest of voice-trapping mewls from her lips that I think I’ve ever heard.

“Oh fu—ck.” The cuh noise cuts across her tongue, like a knife and I can feel my cock swell at the sound of it. “Yours Sam, all yours.”

“Too right it is,” he states firmly. “And ‘m ��bout to fucking destroy it.”

The camera pans down from the back of her head to between her legs, and the sight finds me swallowing the taste of copper as I bite down on my lower lip.

I watch as Sam’s cock drives in and out of her, and each time he pulls back it’s coated in her arousal, dripping wet and glistening. I can hear her cunt sucking him back in— the kind of obscene squelch that makes my balls tighten, wishing I was the cause of the noise. Wishing I was the one making her that wet.

“Sa— Sam, oh god, Sam...” She’s panting hard, and I can see the sweat beading across her back, pooling in the divot of her spine. “You’re gonna make me come.”

“Do it baby, come for me.”

From the way she suddenly goes silent and her body quakes within Sam’s iron grip, it’s obvious she’s coming. I can’t see her face from this point of view, but I imagine what I think she’d look like— brows pinched together, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she attempts to stifle a cry. Camera aimed at her pussy the entire time, I can see— can practically feel— her contracting around Sam’s cock and my own aches.

“Fuck baby, look so good comin’ around my cock,” Sam praises, low and deep, as he shunts her further up the table and the video abruptly stops.

I sit in silence, eyes drawn to the edge of the table where Sam had her bent over, and I can almost envision the spot where the imprints of her breasts and sweaty palms no doubt were before they faded away, like nothing ever happened.

Shaking my head out of my thoughts, my fingers skim the mousepad to close the window, and my eyes are suddenly diverted to the singular sentence that accompanies the video. I never even registered it before, but part of me thinks if I had, I would never have subjected myself to it in the first place.

She belongs to me.

***

SPN: @allys-creative-bubble​ @akshi8278​ @cluz1babe​ @deanwanddamons​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @flamencodiva​ @fanfictionandfluff​ @hobby27​ @hoboal87​ @jensenswinchester​ @jvstjewels​ @jc-winchester​ @katelyn--renee​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @peachyafshawn​ @pink-sparkly-witch​ @ravenclawfitzgerald​ @spnbaby-67​ @sammykb1994​ @sucker-for-dean​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @thanatosfic​ @waywardbaby​ @winchest09​

4EVS: @amirra88​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @cheesyclaire​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @daughterofthenight117​ @dandywinchesterbras​ @deangirl93​ @doozywoozy​ @foxyjwls007​ @geekofmanyforms​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets​ @ilovefanfic86​ @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @mogaruke​ @maliburenee​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nik2write​ @obsessivelycapricious​ @patrick-hockslutter​ @princessmisery666​ @phildunphyisadilf​ @roxyfan14-blog​ @sea040561​ @sweeterthanthis​ @slutformarvelmen​ @simpformarvelmenandwoman​ @smokeandnailz​ @stoneyggirl​ @stoneyggirl2​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @thegirlnextdoorssister​ @unfortunate-brat​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​

[lollytea]

Darius n willow dynamics hc please

Hunter stayes at darius s place quite often (post canon) so they have small talks while willow waits for Hunter to get ready etc

(obsessed w her as darius s equivalent in dana s art)

Ohhhhhhh I have SO MANY Darius and Willow dynamic headcanons

I think it's so funny to imagine Darius and Willow having a frenemy-type relationship. Partly because Darius is just Like That with all children cuz ew children and partly because Willow is literally never going to get over their first meeting and refuses to let Darius forget it either.

She frequently reminds him of just how terribly he handled that whole situation. She's mad about how many hours it took her to wash his stupid abomination goo out of her hair. She cannot BELIEVE a grown man seriously botched what should have been such a simple task to such fantastically idiotic proportions. All he had to do was employ some basic communication skills. HOW did he fuck this up so bad? Willow isn't even all that angry. She doesn't really hold grudges (anymore) but she's so just astounded by his audacity that she can never let it go.

Everytime she gets started on this Darius is like "Really? Really? We're still on this, are we? Haven't you ever considered finding something else to get riled up about? I hear they're raising the price of griffin eggs. Where's the rage for the failing economy?? Kids these days get abducted on an evil government airship once and its all they talk about for the rest of their lives."

Darius never admits to any mistakes on his part and insists he had the situation entirely under control. But if she weren't in such a hurry to abandon ship...Oh, this gets Willow hopping mad. Darius will dig his heels in further until they're having a full blown debate.

Whenever the conversation even begins to steer in this direction, Hunter desperately attempts to change the subject. If he doesn't, he knows this could go on for hours.

They're fond of each other, they really are. And they enjoy the passive aggressive quip battles. But they'd never admit it.

Darius absolutely uses the nickname "Little Princess" for Willow and he says it with a smile but god....GOD, so much bitchiness in his tone. Its wonderful.

"Darius." Willow will greet him in return, also smiling sweetly and her tone makes his name sound the way cursive looks. And he immediately knows she's calling him a bitch too.

Oh Willow loves to be a little shit and get under Darius's skin. She loves it so much. And Darius, in turn, likes to exaggerate what a pest she is.

Hunter will be staying at his place and Darius will answer the door to Willow.

"Uck. You again." He says, exasperated.

"Me again :)" Chirps Willow, delighted that she received such an On Brand Darius greeting. "I am Hunter's girlfriend after all :)"

"Yes, I'm well aware of that. You won't shut up about it."

"And I don't intend to :) Would you be a sweetie and fetch him for me? :)"

"Do I look like a butler to you?"

"No. You look like a maid :) I really like your frilly apron :)"

"Alright alright, give it a rest. I'll go get him."

"Thaaaaaank you, Daaaaaarius :)"

"You're a nuisance, little princess."

Darius loves to insist that Willow is a terrible influence on Hunter, though he doesn't actually believe a word of what he says. Darius puts a lot of value on spunk and rebelliousness and has never believed in that "kids should respect their elders" nonsense. No, kids should should always speak their mind. At least that's what he always did as a kid. Darius has never been all that impressed by manners and obedience.

Willow is wild. She's outspoken. She's got flair. She's tough. She's confident. Quite frankly, she reminds him a lot of himself. And he truly hopes her best traits will rub off on Hunter. He has no intention of ever saying it aloud (maybe some day. If he is talked into doing a wedding speech of some sort.) but he believes they're a perfect match. They bring out the best in each other.

Although that won't stop him from groaning loudly and being like "Must you do this now?" When Willow gives her boyfriend affection while Darius is standing right there. Come on!! Come on!!! He doesn't need to see this!!!

"Ohhhhh I'm sooo sorry," Willow says with a theatric pout, still cupping Hunter's face after smushing her lips to his cheek. "This is just what wicked girlfriends do. They kiss in public :( Can't be helped :(" Because she thinks getting called a terrible influence is the funniest shit ever.

Willow especially likes to roast Darius when Hunter is around because she loves making him laugh. And like. He will sincerely TRY to hold back giggles when she's joking at Darius's expense and Willow considers that a challenge. So the three of them will be having dinner together and Willow will be cracking jokes, Darius will be making the most ridiculously offended expressions and noises and Hunter will just be suffering. Just trying to hide his face in his hands, his whole frame buckling, desperately trying not to burst into hysterics.

Then Willow is like "What's the deal with your hair? It looks like a lava lamp." And Hunter completely fucking loses it.

Darius blinks. "What's a lava lamp?"

That only makes Hunter laugh harder.

"He'll suffocate because of you." He says dryly to Willow. "And then you'll be sorry."

But if Darius is being honest....he likes that she makes him laugh so hard. He might have been exaggerating his faces just to add to The Bit. He's pretty sure Willow had figured that out.

I'm recycling this as something we talked about on discord once. So, in the same vein that Willow won't let their first meeting go, Darius also has his own incident where Willow fucked up and he never lets her forget it.

At some point after she and Hunter started dating, she came down with the common mold. And you know how that is. She got super loopy and clingy. And when Hunter showed up at her place to check up on her (being warned by her dads to keep his distance) she was immediately "Hunterrrrrr!!! I love you!!! Kisses?? Can I have kisses??? I haven't seen you in a DAY and I MISSED YOU and I want to KISS YOU. I think if I don't get kisses I'll DIE!!!" And like. What was Hunter supposed to do? You think he has the willpower to say no to that? Really? Honestly?

Anyway it just so happened that Hunter was scheduled to stay at Darius's place that weekend. And so sick cranky moody disgusting germ bucket Hunter immediately became Darius's problem.

Obviously Willow showed up to see her lovely boyfriend and the moment she stepped into the house, Darius was like "YOU!!!!!!!!!!"

At least Willow had the decency to look ashamed. She actually gets really embarrassed when Darius reminds her of the time she wasn't in her right mind and got Hunter sick. So, of course, Darius brings it up constantly.

Darius hates sports. Always has, always will. Too barbaric, too much dirt, too much sweat. However, he now has no other option but to attend every match the Emerald Entrails plays. And he also has no option but to cheer the loudest out of everyone in the crowd.

("Out of everything in the world you could have seduced him with, did it have to be sports?"

"Yeah :) Have a nice day :)")

But the first game he attends is memorable. Because it's the first time in years he bumps into his old abomination teacher, Professor Hermonculous.

And of course Hermonculous is delighted to see Darius again. Why wouldn't he be? Not only was he the best in his track but he may have been one of the greatest students Hexside has ever known. He accomplished so much!! Invented so many new techniques in abomination magic!! He wrote a book!! He became a Head Witch!! (Back when things like Covens actually meant something. Some witches still saw them as status symbols.) In his old professor's eyes, Darius was everything he could have ever wanted in a student.

Darius, on the other hand, did not greet Hermonculous half as warmly. It was quite a short grape vine. A girl tells her boyfriend and her boyfriend tells his former co-worker/current weekend roommate.

Yes, Darius was a success. But he knew full well how Hermunculous treated students that disappointed him.

"Once the Emerald Entrails have annihilated the competition, I think there's something you and I should discuss." Said Darius icily. "Professor."

Willow is immediately on the defense when she shows up at school the next day and her former abomination teacher calls her into his office for a private conversation. But she is completely floored when she receives a completely unprompted formal apology from miserable old Hermonculous himself. She leaves the office in a daze.

However, once the bewilderment wears off, Willow begins connecting dots. She's no idiot.

"Darius." She whispers the next time she sees him, tugging at his forearm and beckoning him to come closer.

Assuming she has some confidential info to share, Darius crouches to Willow's height and is surprised when she presses her hands to his shoulder to keep her tippy toes balanced and pecks him on the cheek.

"You have a pretty big heart for a bitter old man." She says.

Darius squints at her witheringly. "Did you just call me old?"

Willow beams.

[djarrex]

Pretty please can we have something where Echo and TBB find out Rex and reader are expecting? Bonus points for Omega's reaction cause I wonder sometimes whether she knows much about the natural way babies are made? I figure she wouldn't have need of that information in the Kaminoans' eyes.

I wanna preface this by expressing the joy I feel and the appreciation I have when you guys come into my inbox asking or wanting to talk about Post-Order 66 Rex and fam. I love it SO MUCH you have no idea :’)

So, if you remember, Hunter was briefly in Insatiable and has a couple lines of dialogue - he even congratulates them on the pregnancy and wishes them well in case he doesn’t see them soon - which is shown during Rex + reader + Hunter’s short interaction. The squad is told the happy news before the events of that particular installment, and I’m thinking that it happens when Rex contacts them to ask if they would be able meet him on [planet] for a little help with [mission].

Find the rest of the series and related works in the Post-Order 66 Rex ML

Let’s go back in time when Rex makes contact with TBB, which preludes the events of Insatiable: (pregnant!reader, TBB + Omega finds out, about 1.6k words)

<<<>>>

"We’re being hailed.” 

All members on board the Marauder drop what they’re doing and turn their attention to Echo, who had just called out and is signaling for everyone to congregate in the cockpit. Hunter sheathes the knife he’d been twirling in his fingers and nods before stepping towards the rear of the ship and calling for Omega, while Wrecker sets down Gonky and waves her over. Tech and Echo are already sat in the cockpit, getting the signal steady for the incoming transmission to come through.

"What is it?" Omega jumps down from the gunner's nest - now her room thanks to Wrecker's kind heart and creativity - and joins her brothers in the cockpit. The pilot seats are swiveled around and facing the small space in the center of all of them - the bust of a familiar captain popping into view. "Oh, it's Rex! Hi Rex!" She waves at his translucent blue form with a giddy smile plastered on her face. “Where is-”

"Hello Omega," you chime in with a smile as your head pops into the perimeter of the holo. Her sweet face lights up even more, and her eyes move back and forth between you both, unsure of whom to focus on. From the room you’re still staying at in a high-rise located in Yerbana City, the two of you exchange quick greetings with the five who are currently traveling through hyperspace.

“What’s goin’ on, Rex?” The gentle giant asks with a grin and hands placed on his hips. The captain straightens his stance and crosses his armored arms across his chest plate, and instead of directing his impending response to Wrecker, Rex’s attention turns to Hunter, who’s leaned against the frame at the threshold of the cockpit. A moment passes as the two share a nonverbal understanding before Rex opens his mouth - the focusing pairs of eyes on one another.

“I wanted to see if your squad would be available to help me out.” You quietly observe each individual who are all appearing on your end as full-body projections, landing on Omega to where she’s sitting on top of their Gonk droid - her hands folded neatly in her lap, legs swinging.

“Name it.” Echo is quick to respond with a affirmative nod as he meets the eyes of each member - cutting off Hunter before the sergeant can get a word in. Rex’s oldest friend found himself caught at the receiving end of a very slight glare coming from directly across from him, and begins to backtrack. “I-”

“What is it, Captain?” Hunter interjects.

You sort of tune out the rest, having already been given the spiel by Rex long before you’d suggested for him to contact Hunter for some much-needed assistance. It’s a simple mission: scouting out an abandoned base in hopes to obtain supposedly valuable information from the obsolete Republic database and perhaps to also restock on munitions if there’s anything left there. Normally this would be something Rex could manage on his own, though his thoughts have been a little busy since the start of your extended stay in Yerbana. The two of you ended up taking a little much-needed ‘vacation’ in the repopulating capitol city after receiving the incredible news, and you’re just now getting back into the swing of things. Well, for the most part. Rex doesn’t quite trust his focus as of late with far too many other important things swarming around in his mind, and is worried that he'd make a mistake doing the mission solo, no matter how simple the objective appears to be.

Hunter accepts without resistance, and confirms that they'll meet the two of you just outside the abandoned base immediately after they’ve finished their current objective for Cid, which will probably be in another eighteen hours or so. Rex transmits the coordinates, and it falls silent; the awkward clearing of the throat coming from Rex crackles through the air on their end.

“Somethin’ else, Rex?”

“Actually, yeah. We have some news.” Rex grins and rubs at his nape, and you can't help but to smile wide at him from your position at his side. The squad members all share a glance - a mixture of raised, inquisitive brows and narrowed, concerned eyes. Hunter steps closer to the projection, caution engrained within the features of his half-inked face as he crosses his arms.

“Tell them, love,” your sweet voice of reassurance crackles with the brief wavering signal - your hand laying to rest on his pauldron. Rex chuckles down at his feet and grabs your hand to bring it up to his chest, squeezing gently as he begins to acknowledge the others.

“Everything okay, you two?”

“Based on their lifted expressions and display of affection towards one another, it appears that this ‘news’ is of a positive, exuberant nature.”

You can’t help but laugh at Tech being Tech, which results in mixed reactions at the other end of the call. Rex inhales deep - the air quietly seeping through his nostrils on the exhale. “We’re, uh- we’re gonna have a baby.” His lit up eyes drop to his boots and he’s smirking at his feet as soon as the words leave his lips. You watch as the multiple pair of eyes widen with smiles creeping their way onto each member of the squad’s faces, but the first person to audibly respond is Tech - his focus not lifting from the device held in his hands.

“Are you certain?” All heads snap in Tech’s direction to where he’s leaned forward in the pilot’s seat, elbows resting on his thighs, continuing to tap away at the datapad. Smacking his bother’s knee, Echo squints at Tech and shakes his head.

“Yes, Tech,” you giggle as your hand releases from Rex’s and moves to rest against the beginnings of your baby bump, though you’re unsure if they are able to see either one of you from the chest down. “The bun has been confirmed as baking in the oven. We risked a brief visit to the local med center here, so, we’re certain.”

“Well then.” Tech’s brows lift above the rim of his goggles as he readjusts the spectacles with a finger pushing between them. “Felicitations to you both. That is quite extraordinary news. It seems that I was correct in-”

“That’s so wonderful!” Omega exclaims with the largest grin - hopping off the GNK and clapping her hands excitedly as she approaches you. “When are you getting the baby? Are we going to see the baby when we meet them at the rendezvous, Hunter?”

“Of course you're going to see the baby, Omega,” you answer softly for Hunter, giving him a quick smile and nod, saving him from having to explain. “It won’t be for quite a few months, though. Not until after the baby is born.” Omega’s brows pinch together in confusion, and you cautiously elaborate, unsure of what she already knows as far as what the natural-born process entails. “The baby has to grow inside of me first, and that takes a little while.”

"Inside of you?" Her curiosity is absolutely adorable. She turns to her brothers - soft eyes flickering to each one of them.

"You see, Omega, when-"

"Uh, Tech?" Rex clears his throat, and the intelligent trooper is quick to get the hint - closing his mouth and resuming to silently tap at the datapad. Echo is next to chime in, and he’s smiling like a fool, eyes wide.

“You’re gonna be a dad, eh? Wow... that’s- that’s just incredible, brother.”

“I’m gonna be an uncle!” Wrecker very loudly exclaims, and Omega and you share giggles at his enthusiasm.

“Technically, Wrecker, we are all going to be ‘uncles’ since Rex is our brother, genetically speaking. Therefore, any offspring he may produce would be considered as our nieces and nephews. That is how the nat-borns conduct their family trees.” Tech punctuates his statement with a sure nod - speaking with his finger raised in the air so as to draw attention to his point.

You’re so lost in the way Rex’s eyes continue to positively sparkle with pride and adoration as his brothers and Omega shower the two of you with congratulatory praises that you’re forgetting to respond to all of them.

“We appreciate it, everyone,” you say with an ear-to-ear grin - beaming at Rex. 

“We’ll see you all soon,” Rex concludes, “Stay safe out there.” 

The holo vanishes as the transmission disconnects, leaving the squad on board the Marauder to go over some more details of their next objective as well as to process the news.

“So...” Wrecker turns around and leads Gonky back to where he was benching the power droid before the call. “What do ya think Rex is gonna do?”

Hunter raises the brow bordered with dark ink. “What do you mean?”

“Are they going to keep this up, now that they’re going to have a kid? You know, the missions and stuff?”

“We have Omega,” Tech inputs matter-of-factly as he prepares the ship for exit from hyperspace. “And we are managing just fine, barring our dwindling ration supply.” Omega smiles sheepishly, but nods with confidence.

“Rex is a good man.” Echo swivels his seat around and sits up straight, meeting the four pair of eyes now gazing back at him. “Always tried to do what was best for his men, his brothers, and still does, even if it's beyond his control or out of his hands. Now that Rex is... free,” Echo puts the most stress into that word as it’s spoken - glancing down at his feet and chewing the inside of his cheek before continuing, “He’s in control of his life, and is able to choose his own path. And that path will lead to what’s best for his family.”

<<<>>> 

everyone tags:

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clones only tags:

@sergeant-hunter @kriffclone @saberdeity @echofoxfives @alucas528 @captainrexscyarika @kirinpl @lastphoenixfalling @bambiswriting

[cantfightmoonlight]

"It's okay. I'm fine," She promised him, resting her hand against his shoulder to steady herself as they wandered down the beach. "I have you after all," She told him, a bright smile finding its way to her lips as she beamed up at her cousin. Looping her arm through his, she moved to rest her head against his shoulder. It was nice, getting to do this. Even if she was completely overdressed for the occasion, but it was rare these days for them to get to hang out together like they used back in Oregon. Back before they had to worry about hunters and serial killers and death around ever corner. She had missed this. She had missed them. But, as he told her he'd likely hate her more, her brow tilted up, shooting him a wary narrowed eyed look as if to ask if she even wanted to know. "I mean I'm never going to turn down shopping, though I'm fairly certain what you'd want to wear and what I'd pick out for you very drastically, but yes. I'd happily take you shopping," She promised him, giving his arm a light squeeze at the thought. Only at the mention of Amrita, she found herself growing quiet before she gave him a small shrug. "It's okay. It's not really all that surprising. Rohan and I have had our differences, though I still stand by the fact he like me up until recently, and even now I think it may be debatable? But, It's not like I don't know that you, Rohan and Bexley hang out all the time or how you, Rohan and Amrita likely have. You've built something for yourself here. It's only natural," She trailed off, biting down lightly on her bottom lip as they continued walking. Even if the worry that she might be left out because she and Rohan had their differences seemed to be ringing a little true, as much she tried to tell herself that her insecurities were just delusional and she really need to stop projecting them on to other people... Whoops.

"That is big," A small squeal broke from her lips as she gave Jonah's arm another reassuring squeeze. "Freaking out? Why are you freaking out? It's exciting! You should be excited and I know they'll be over the moon to see you walk down the aisle," She teased, giving him a slight bump with her hip as they slowed. Bri dipped her own toes into the water as she peered up at him expectantly. But, at his question, she found herself growing pale. "I- I don't-" She started to stutter out, suddenly remembering how it had been the day she had first come back. The look of complete and utter horror on Jonah's face was hard to forget. "I don't know if that's a good idea?" She admitted quietly. Chewing on her bottom lip once more as she mulled over the right way to say it. "It's not that I don't want to, I do. I just don't think surprising them with, well, me, without at least prefacing that I'm back from the dead is going to go over too well and I'm not really sure I can go through watching another person freak out or faint at the sight of me... Maybe, you could meet them first though? They could arrive to the house and I could hide up stairs to give you time to explain the sort of... elephant in the room," She winced slightly at her choice of description, how ever applicable. "And then I could come down? Logistically speaking and all? And I mean obviously. They're coming to a town filled magic, they're going to see it and I know that they'll leave and..." And would forget her. Her chest tightened at the thought, clearly not ready to process that one yet. "But, I just think given how you took the news and all, maybe we try to break it to them gently, is all... If that is even possible..."

"I mean I've kind of already been abandoned by you. You didn't exactly give a disclaimer when you did it," She attempt to tease, only to quickly remember that it was likely far too soon to try to crack a joke about. "Sorry, I was trying to make light of- ignore me... Oh," She paused, trying to keep her facial features in check to no avail. Her brow lifted ever so slightly as she gave him an eased look as if to say 'is that it?' "Jonah, no offense, but I've been asking you when you were moving out for months now. It would be weirder if you weren't. I mean I love living with you don't get me wrong and I don't want you to move out, but it would be kind of weirder if you and your soon-to-be husband moved in with Ronnie and I," She pointed softly out. "You're getting married. Moving into together is an inevitable next step. I knew it was going to happen the day you said you told me you were engaged and I've already figured it all out. Have a binder and everything," She told him, a little proud at how prepared she was this time around. "There is this apartment over in Celestial Hills that is going on sale that is to die for. Literally. The previous owner just recently dropped dead. Please don't tell Ronnie that though. The last thing she needs to know is that we may end up being haunted by an elderly lady. Regardless, I may have bribed the realtor to let me take a look around and it is incredible, Jonah. I mean incredible. It's very je ne sais quoi, tre magnifique? Basically, very french. The owner before the last one apparently was some hundred year old french vampire who based the place off of Versailles. How fun is that? Anyways, the game plan- I put down a deposit a couple days ago, since the wedding date is set and all, to hold it for us and as long as I sign the papers in the next day or so, it's ours. I was going to gift you and Rohan the house, but it seemed like you guys were already doing your own thing on your own. So, if you're okay with it, when I sign for the apartment, I can let the realtor know the house is good to put up for sale. I'm sure with that kind of beach front property it will be sold fairly quickly too," She admitted with another small shrug, which was good. Jonah was started fresh in a new house and she couldn't bare staying in theirs any longer. She would never say it out loud, but she had grown to hate their house. Not so much the house itself, but how lonely she had felt in it after he left. And as great as it was when he was over, whenever he crashed at Rohan's and Ronnie was out, she found herself feeling that sinking feeling in her chest all over again. It was a feeling she didn't want to feel anymore and, if he was leaving, the best way to ensure that she didn't was have a fresh start herself. One with hopefully better energy and, she had never lived with only girls before, so now was her chance to make the place as girly as she could possibly want. "I think he's the one whose lucky and who you are putting up with, but what can I say? I may be a little bias," She teased, giving him another small nudge as she motioned with a slight tilt of her chin back up towards the house. "You ready to start walking back now?"

He did not need to look at her expression to know she was not okay, one look at her shoes told him enough and really all it did now was make him shake his head with a chuckle. "Right, of course you are. Sorry, when I said walk I really should have specified where." But even then, he should've expected she would still wear heels for a casual stroll. "You'll likely hate me more in a minute, but we'll get to that soon. Just – sorry in advance?" he added, a sheepish smile forming as he scratched the back of his head. "As compensation though, will you take me shopping? I want to look good for Rohan." He did not know how to break the news of a barefoot wedding yet, that needed mentioning at some stage in this talk he wanted to have with her. That amongst many. However, it all had to be put on pause for the moment as she mentioned Amrita. A smile forming as he thought to how elated Rohan had been with the discovery. "It's fairly still recent," he answered, "I don't think anyone wanted to keep it from you. Not on purpose or accidentally. I was giving them time to adjust and bond, besides that news isn't mine to share." They'd all be family soon, yes, but he still felt such a thing needed to come from the siblings themselves.

"Right, okay," he said, trying to get back on track, "Well, with the wedding coming up, my mothers are coming. That's big. I'm not freaking out." Thankful that she paused her movements the worry of her maybe falling eased and Jonah began to move closer to the waters edge, wishing the waves to comfort him as they have done a million times, to still his heart back to a regular rhythm, "I don't want to add to your worries and you don't have to agree, I can explain to them best as I can about this town, but could you please be there with me?" He didn't know how to say that he needed her without it coming across as a burdened request, "I can't lie to them any longer. They won't stay, they'll want to but I can't have them hurt." He could guess what their reaction would when they see Bri, be much like his, shock, surprise, relief, a confusing mess of emotions that would only grow confusing, but his mothers were better than he was, not foolish or selfish, and it would tear his heart to shreds to watch them go but that would be for the best. He cleared his throat and went to stand in the water, arms wrapping around himself for added comfort as emotions swelled like the waves in the distance.

Snapping out, he continued moving back to her side, "Right, um yes, next. This might not be such a surprise but comes with a disclaimer? Please don't think I'm in any way abandoning you, that has solidified as a very real fear of mine, suppose that's why I've taken this long but it's time. I'll be moving out." That statement came with a shuddering breath, difficult even though it likely should not be, but disappointing her, or leading Bri to believe he was leaving her again held him in his move for so long, "He's been so kind as is, I don't how he's put up with me for so long. I'm so very lucky."

[shepherds-of-haven]

In an alternate Blest where the Endarkened never returned thus there was never a need for the shepherds to form, what would the main cast be doing?🧐 Would any of their paths have crossed otherwise? For those who are not from Haven would they have any other reason to travel there?

Holy shit anon, this is such a great question that I've literally sat on it for six weeks thinking about it... Let's give this a try! 🤔💭

Beware! Heavy alpha build and overall spoilers below! Read at your own risk, or do not read if you haven't played the alpha fully!

Blade: well, if things had gone exactly the way they had, just without the need for the Shepherds in the mix, he'd be dead! But if we ignore that particular detail, he'd still be working as an assassin for the Ket Rebellion, and he'd probably be a colder, crueler person as a result of it. He would still be a frequent visitor to Haven, plotting you-know-what and taking on various jobs and assignments in the meantime; and he and Trouble were friends before the Shepherds were formed, so they'd still be merc buddies and occasional partners on bigger jobs where they'd need someone to watch their back! But they probably wouldn't be as close. He'd probably spend the rest of his life working as the tip of the spear for the Ket rebellion, the left hand and living weapon of his brother. It'd be an okay life, but he'd never truly be independent!

Trouble: he'd likely still be a mercenary or soldier-for-hire, sort of wandering around the Continent with Haven as his home base. For some reason, I could see him being talked into joining the Army of the Sun and becoming a military man once he was older and tired of the merc life; he'd probably like the order and structure and camaraderie of it for a time, but he'd clash with his superiors and the culture so much that he'd probably eventually wind up discharged! At that point, he'd probably leave it all behind and go West to start a new life... maybe he'd become the sheriff of some small town out there, or a farmer, or an airship mechanic in Lindell!

Tallys: she'd probably work as a hunter for hire, usually working for the farms out in the Sun's Embrace or guarding their livestock from wolves and predators, or possibly as a 'van guard for Elvish caravans. She volunteered at poorhouses and Elvish clinics in Ashtown before joining the Shepherds, so she'd probably still be doing that. I think her life would be a sort of haze of just... existing, looking for a purpose or some way to help people but feeling like it's all a bit futile. She'd probably do some self-destructive things to make her forget the emptiness inside of her, and if things reached a boiling point, perhaps she'd simply disappear into the wind one day...

Shery: hmmmm, this is an interesting question! Shery met up with the Shepherds because her parents sold her into an apprenticeship that she didn't want and she ran away, and by coincidence she happened to come across the group and Blade offered her a job as quartermaster because she was good at book-keeping. If that didn't happen, I don't know what would have happened to her?! She alludes in the game that she saw how prostitutes by the docks were living and was scared that that was the only option open to her if no one would hire her, but I like to think she would have found a job as like, a librarian or a bookshop clerk or a merchant's assistant. I almost feel like she could have somehow run into Riel and joined Merchants Guild as one of his assistants alongside Aerin! So I feel like she would have been okay, though her life would have been very quiet and domestic and humble, and unless she worked for Riel, she likely would have never earned enough to have more than a little dingy apartment all to herself (and some cats).

If things hadn't worked out so well, she likely would have returned home and faced her terrible parents, and probably would have lived under their thumbs for the rest of her life as atonement! :(

Riel: he'd still be master of Merchants Guild, and doing just fine! I think he'd just continue to garner wealth, power, and influence, and likely would have been made a minister or some sort of politician within the Consortium when he was older! Not sure yet if he would have taken that offer, though! If the Endarkened didn't exist, I wonder if Merchants Guild and Thieves Guild would have had any particular bone to pick with each other, as they largely ignored each other's existence... Chase's thieves typically targeted the aristocracy and the obscenely wealthy before the whole Black Sun thing, so they might never have crossed paths!

Chase: he'd still be master of Thieves Guild, also doing just fine! I can't really imagine anything about his life changing that much; he would have continued to steal, nettle, and harangue the denizens and criminal underworld of Haven until the ecosystem could no longer sustain it and the Thieves Guild would have to pack up and move elsewhere to elude capture (probably to Conte); or he would have developed such a monopoly on crime in Haven that he would have gotten bored of the power, handed control off to Ari and Kato, and peaced out to parts unknown... realistically, in that scenario, his luck would have to run out at some point, and he'd probably sleep with or double-cross the wrong person (probably both) and get himself into a corner he couldn't back out of alone...

Red: he'd still be Archmage of the Veiled Circle, and they probably would have remained at Capra for longer, since there wouldn't have been the Endarkened to draw attention to their activities as pointedly as Quiial did. Still, they would have had to leave to evade the Inquisitors eventually, and probably would have settled somewhere else; and Red probably would have passed off leadership of the Circle to someone else, maybe a promising instructor who joined later or Pan or someone. Basically when he'd felt he'd put in the time and wasn't abandoning the Circle to its fate, he'd leave and go off and do his Traveler stuff he'd always wanted to. But it'd be a lonelier, more solitary life, and his letters home or his jaunts back to the Circle would drop off as he became more and more engrossed in his research, and people would worry about him or his health, not having anyone to watch his back on the road. He has a 50/50 chance of marrying someone nice that his family set him up with after like a concerned intervention on their part, or he'd probably drop off the face of the earth and no one would know where he went!

Ayla: she'd still be working as a wilderness guide, taking rich people around on tours and guiding parties and caravans through dangerous stretches of wilderness. She would have gone to Haven to visit as a tourist, but probably wouldn't have stayed long; a handful of weeks, at the most. She'd spend her life scrapping, fighting to stay alive, and watching her own back, but it would be an empty life, pretty much devoid of meaningful connection or meaning. At some point she'd probably get fed up, return to Jalis, and launch a single-woman campaign against the warlords there, just because she could!

Briony: hmmm... okay, she'd still be in that shipwreck, but would slavers have found her if there was no gladiator arena, since there would be no Endarkened to have created it?? I feel like she would have woken up, still an amnesiac, and staggered to the nearest town eventually (which I think would have been Courtshore or one of its outlying, smaller towns/villages). After recovering a little, she probably would have put herself to work as a mercenary or as a street-fighter working for bets (so like a gladiator... but on the street!). She probably would have been taken in by a kind innkeeper or family and allowed to rent a small room with her bizarre story of not having a memory. Or she could have taken up something simpler, like working as a barmaid in the inn or something like that! She probably would have had a relatively happy, peaceful life once she got used to things and it all settled down... but given her proximity to the shipwreck, her past would have caught up to her way faster, and the fallout would have been... intense...

Lavinet: she'd still be in Lockwood, and the Elementals would still be an issue, since that wasn't tied to demonwork! What probably would have happened: things would have deteriorated, and the families of the besieged nobles in Lockwood would have grown impatient and would sent in their personal armies to deal with the situation, most likely without Lavinet's consent. The ensuing conflict would have been devastating, with the Elementals most likely winning. In response, the Autarchy would have mobilized the Army of the Sun and absolutely annihilated the Elementals--but Lockwood would have likely burned, caught in the crossfire. Lavinet would have to spend the rest of her life with that shadow looming over her, and while she'd still harbor ambitions to attend the Sun Court and rise in the ranks as a Sun Courtier, there would always be that stain on her reputation, or she wouldn't have been able to leave Lockwood, having to help it rebuild after its destruction. Or she would have gotten kidnapped by the Elementals far earlier and might have been killed then!

Halek: he would have stayed sol of the Reach, and I have no idea what would have happened... he probably would have married Moonsilk and just have been absolutely miserable... probably would have popped out a few kids and just... existed! Or maybe he might have run away and left Naolin holding the bag and become like a guilty drunkard in some random town, though it's hard to believe they wouldn't have tracked him down eventually...

[youwouldntbelievehowigothere]

please write a zelink tangled au fic 🥺🥺🥺

HAHA this took so long to get right. I'm not completely happy with it, but it's better than I thought it was when I finished it a few days ago.

I started writing it where Link was in the tower, and then I was wanting Sheik in the story some way, and it just got a little more complicated. I settled on something much more conventional to the prompt.

Zelink I used... well I thought the fairy tale inspired AU would fit the earlier zelda games... but I've only ever played the first zelda for half an hour and did not get very far (well, and link's awakening, but that's sort of removed from the zelda part of legend of zelda). So when I say loosely early zelda games, know that's just for the general vibes.

Without further ado:

The young woman’s gloved hands sparkled with magic and Link found himself bound by some invisible force. The room was dark, where it had been lit by the mid-morning sun not minutes before. 

“Something brought you here,” she said, “fate… destiny…”

Link said nothing, still reeling that not only was the tower occupied, it was occupied by a pretty girl who could use magic. 

“Trying the silent treatment?” she asked, drawing closer. Close enough he could see the violet of her eyes. “Well, I know other spells, and–”

“I was exploring,” he interrupted, “This tower looked abandoned.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You were exploring?”

He nodded.

“Why do you have those?” she asked, looking pointedly at the sword on his back, and the hookshot still in his hand.

“Monsters.”

“Monsters?”

He squinted at her slightly and would’ve tilted his head if he could move that much. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

“So you didn’t come here to–” she shut her mouth before she could finish the question.

“I’m an adventurer,” he said in an attempt to put her at ease. “Treasure hunter when convenient, former hero.”

“Former?” 

The magical binds tightened around him and Link corrected himself hastily. “Uh, forget about it.”

This only made her more upset.

“Did you do something villainous to cancel out the heroics?”

“No, no!” he exclaimed, “It was just a long time ago. I was just a kid.”

She loosened the binds slightly. “What did you do?”

“I slew a few big monsters,” he explained, “they were bothering people in Hyrule, and–”

The magical bonds were released completely, and Link fell to the floor with a startled yelp. Ignoring his ignoble cry, the girl helped him up. She watched him owlishly, as if seeing him for the first time. It wasn’t fear or distrust, but curiosity.

“You’ve been to Hyrule?” she asked.

The change in demeanor was so great, he had to stare for a moment before answering, “Yeah…”

She pulled him to the curtain covered window, her hand surprisingly strong for someone so unassuming and pulled the coverings aside. The landscape stretched out before them, the green and thorns surrounding the tower, and the dark woods beyond that. She pointed out towards a mountain to the north. “It’s that direction, right?”

He nodded, and she pulled him away excitedly to a thick book on a desk. She leafed through the pages with an expert speed, clearly having come to the spot in the book many times judging from how the spine sagged. The page was of a star map with small neat notes in the margins. 

“Each year, on my birthday, there are lights released into the sky from that direction. According to this star chart I estimated it to be Hyrule, but I don’t have any books about Hyrule. When I asked Father, he told me there was no need for me to learn about such a horrible place. So I didn’t know if it was simply a coincidence that the two things coincided.” 

She glanced up at him to see if he was paying attention. “Do you know what I’m talking about?”

He furrowed his brows, trying to remember. “I’ve not been there in a long time, and I like to explore cave systems often enough…”

Her shoulders drooped, and she continued with, “They’re beautiful. I’ve… I’ve always wanted to see them up close, but I’m not allowed to leave the tower.”

“You really want to go see them,” he observed.

She nodded, almost shyly. 

“Let’s go, then,” he said.

“Didn’t you just hear me?” she asked, “Father would kill me!”

“How old are you turning?” he asked back. She was taken aback and nervously played with a piece of her long strawberry blonde hair. 

“I’m turning seventeen in two days,” she said. 

“And you’ve never been to Hyrule?” he asked, “by the time I was eleven I was well on my way out of the Kokiri forest.”

More hair twisting through her gloved hands. She averted her eyes and said almost meekly, “I’ve never left the tower.” 

Oh. Link readdressed the situation. He couldn’t imagine being stuck in a tower for a few days, much less his entire life! 

“Then you have to go!” he entreated. “Being stuck in a place like this would–” he stopped himself. He cleared his throat and continued, “what I mean is, travel is great! Besides, when is your dad getting back?”

“In three days,” she answered.

“Oh, that’s plenty of time to get there and back without him even knowing.”

“And you’d help me out of the kindness of your heart?” she asked. 

“Of course,” he answered, then leaned in conspiratorially. “I was a hero in my youth, I sometimes get these selfless urges.”

She giggled at that, and a stray thought struck Link. Half joking he said, “Although, considering how well read you are, you might be able to help me with something else.”

“Yes?” she asked.

“Well, for a while now I’ve been searching for the triforces. I’ve already found one, but now I just need to find wisdom and power. Honestly, this tower looked a little promising, but it housesd you, not a magic triangle thing-y.”

She drew back slightly. “What do you want with those?” she asked. 

He shrugged, “I heard if you combine them they grant a wish.”

“And what would you wish for?”

He laughed then at her curiosity and responded, “Oh you know, a private island, riches, a magic talking boat…”

“A magic talking boat?”

He nodded. “So I could have company when I’m sailing.”

“And you sail?”

“Never a day in my life.”

Some of the mirth was back and he was glad for it. 

“It’s certainly an odd dream if you don’t know if you like boating,” she said, and then thoughtfully added, “but I wish to see the lights and I don’t know what they are either.” She nodded once and started packing her things. “I will go with you–” she colored slightly and then turned back to look at him. “I just realized, I never asked for your name, and I never gave mine.”

Link had gotten used to not being asked his name. Though he had been growing curious about hers. 

With a graceful curtsy she introduced herself, “I am Zelda.”

He saluted and said, “I’m Link.”

“Well, Link, I believe we’re wasting daylight.”

Once packed with supplies, a task she completed much too quickly to only have been thinking about leaving in their brief meeting, Zelda approached her large window. Link wondered if she had a rope or any other way to get down, when after a long minute of staring at the wide world outside, she disappeared in a cloud of dust. 

Link looked around desperately, wondering where she could’ve gone. 

“Hey!” she called. He stuck his head out of the window to see her on the ground. “What are you waiting for?”

Link retrieved his hook shot and without further encouragement, met her on the ground. 

To Hyrule they went.

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

𝐎���� 𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐬𝐡

Reader x Winchesters & Castiel

Summary: Set in the bunker, the Winchester brothers have just returned from an awkward “hunt” and won’t stop bickering. Y/N decides to cheer them up with a slice of homemade pie, but chaos soon ensues... Oh yeah, and Cas is living his best life watching Netflix as angels do. 

**Hey guys! This is my first time writing fan fiction, sooooo tell me what you think!**

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“Dude, let me pick for once!”

“Sam, listen to me. I’m not letting you play your weird lovey-dovey chick music on the road. My car, my rules.”

“Lovey-dovey... what are you talking about?”

“You’re already on thin ice! Don’t push it.”

Sam Winchester followed his brother into the bunker as they argued ‘musical politics’ once more. He had endured four consecutive hours of Dean’s classic rock hits, and thought he deserved- no. Was entitled to heightened musical privileges.

“Honestly Dean, Dad’s old tapes aren’t the end-all-be-all of music. Most of it sucks. ”

Dean tossed the gun he was holding onto the nearest table, and turned to Sam, a look of horror on his face. “What did you just-? That’s crazy. You’re crazy.” He stammered, waving off his little brother as he stomped away.

“Hey Cas!” He roared, calling the angel.

Instead, it was Y/N who replied, peaking her head over the banister.

“You’re back!” She squealed excitedly, rushing downstairs to embrace the two brothers.

Y/N had met them two years earlier on a Wraith case in Iowa. Though she was a fairly new hunter at the time, the boys were impressed with her skill and took her under their wings. Mentors of sorts. Now she hunted alongside them, a welcome member to their ever growing hunter family.

“Where’s Cas?” Sam asked, still caught in Y/N’s embrace. “I think he’s watching Netflix.” She righted herself and squinted questioningly at the brothers. “I meant to ask you guys, is this a new thing of his?”

“God, I hope not.” Dean snorted, leaning casually on a bookshelf.

“So tell me,” Y/N started eagerly, “How did it go?”

Dean simply grunted, muttering something unintelligible about the demon hunt to which she was referring. Y/N said nothing for a moment, hoping he would elaborate further.

When it became obvious that his grumbles would be the extent of the summary, she crossed her arms and jutted her hip to the side. “Well check you out, Mr. Sunshine. That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Y/N turned to Sam and whispered conspiratorially behind her hand. “Was that even English?”

“Ignore him.” Sam said, narrowing his eyes at his brother. “He’s just pissed ‘cause it wasn’t actually the real deal after all.” He touched the back of his neck sheepishly “I was wrong.”

24 hours earlier

“Get this,” Sam called to his brother from behind the silver laptop.

“Murder spree in Lexington, Missouri. Three guys with no prior history of violence just randomly killed six people near an abandoned church.”

Dean stopped fidgeting with his watch and turned from his spot against the table. “Hell Sammy, the world is full of psychos. Are you sure it’s...” he waggled his fingers, “supernatural?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Apparently there was a witness who looked into the killer’s eyes and saw,” He squinted as he quoted a line from the article. ‘a coal black abyss.’”

“Poetic,” Dean mused. “Demon?”

“Totally a demon.”

“I don’t know Sammy, this isn’t much to go on. Are you sure?”

“Come on Dean, of course I’m sure. This is a total milk run. So waddya think?

Dean grinned. “I think it’s time to kick some ass!”

***

Ultimately, the hunt proved to be a grand ruse, courtesy of the town’s ‘paranormal re-enactment society of truth, honour, and the arts’. That is to say, LARPers who staged the killings to draw attention and potential recruits to their club. Suffice to say Dean was on the verge of ‘dispatching’ the culprits himself for the inconvenience (humans or not), but was bravely deterred by a certain Sam Winchester who already knew that his brother would never let him forget this mistake.

***

“Oooh, that’s rough.” Y/N winced. “False alarms always hit hard.”

“Yeah, waste of time.” Sam sighed.

“Waste of mileage!” Dean lamented, stepping past his brother, and out the door.

“Dude, I said I was sorry!”

“Yeah well, you suck. I still tried to tell you...”

The Winchesters left the room, Sam trailing behind his brother once more. “Catch you later!” Y/N tried calling, though from the echo of their banter, it was clear her words remained unheard.

Smiling slightly to herself at the brothers’ antics, Y/N was about to head back upstairs before an idea stopped her dead in her tracks.

With a skip in her step, she made her way to the kitchen. She had work to do.

***

“Okay,” Y/N muttered to herself from over the counter. “I’ve got flour, eggs, milk, and... cream of tar?” She squinted at the small lettering printed on the pack of white powder. “Tartar!” She said, mentally chiding herself.

Y/N had decided to lighten the Winchesters’ mood, and set off to bake them a pie. Apple pie since she assumed it would be the most basic to make.

She surveyed her ingredients carefully. “This,” she paused, “will be daunting.”

***

After much whisking, sifting, and simmering, the pie was finally ready. “Damn, I am good.” Y/N gazed approvingly at her chef-d'œuvre. With that, she carefully lifted the pastry, and walked it to the oven. Placing it on the rack, she closed the door and sighed proudly.

“Alright, one hour I think?”

She shrugged, a bit unsure of the timing since she didn’t exactly consult an official recipe. She preferred to do her own thing.

“And I’m going to try... maybe 500 degrees F?”

Y/N hesitated.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

She set the temperature, turned on her heel, and skipped merrily to the library to wait out the hour.

“They’re going to love this!”

***

Though she was trying to read Carver Edlund’s newest Supernatural publication, Y/N’s thoughts were elsewhere as she skimmed the pages uselessly. Two things were stuck on her mind: Sam and Dean’s demon faux pas and Cas’s new screen addiction. She giggled slightly at the mingled thoughts. Could things get any crazier around the bunker?

It wasn’t until a waft of something ashy attacked her nose that Y/N’s musings about Cas and the ‘demon’ were disrupted. She sniffed. “Ew, what the heck are Sam and Dean up to? Did they burn some- MY PIE!”

A sickening pang of alarm rang through her head as she sprang up from her chair and finally noticed the thick plume of smoke coming from the kitchen.

“I forgot. How could I forget?” Y/N asked herself as she rushed to save the pastry, book still in hand.

She reached the kitchen and saw a concentration of black smoke rising from the oven. She paused, taken slightly aback by the sight.

There was a sudden rustle behind her, and upon turning, Y/N came face to face with a man holding a blade. Mind clouded with fear, and eyes clouded by smoke, Y/N did what any hunter would do.

...she screamed and hurled the book at her assailant.

“PIE!” She yelled to no one in particular as the book crashed into the man’s chest. It was simply an involuntary battlecry.

The man let out a grunt of surprise as he raised his arms in a delayed response to the thrown book.

Still shielding himself, the man spoke before Y/N could toss the whisk lying on the table behind her.

“Y/N, why are you attacking me? I felt you call my name sharply, and caught something about a demon.” He paused, lifting his head to look at her. “Are you alright?”

Castiel. Y/N would recognize his gravelly tone and earnest gaze anywhere. But when did she call him? And what was this about a demon?

“Y/N?” He asked cautiously, blade raised as he waited for a response.

Still disoriented, “Burning, smoke... demon?” was all she could muster whilst motioning her arms frantically toward the oven.

“So there is a demon? I can’t seem to sense it” Cas said on guard, brows furrowed.

The sound of hasty footsteps echoed behind the angel. Sam and Dean rushed in fully armed, positioning themselves on either side of Castiel. We heard screaming” Sam coughed. “Cas, what’s going on?” Dean demanded, holding back his own coughing fit brought on by the thick smoke.

“Sam, Dean. I received an urgent call for help from Y/N. She mentioned a demon, though I can’t seem to sense it anywhere.” Castiel’s frown deepened as he scanned the room once more.

“Demon? Sammy, holy water, go!”

Sam was about to reach for a vial when Y/N finally snapped to attention.

“Guys, no wait! Just hold on...” She grabbed a kitchen rag, sprinted to the oven and pulled out a blackened crust as smoke billowed around her. “Surprise” she sang halfheartedly, not without a hint of embarrassment.

The three men stared for a moment. Eyes glued to the smoking mass of crumbs their friend was holding.

“What the hell is that?” Dean demanded indelicately. Sam jabbed him with an elbow.

“Is that... pie?” Sam asked with a grin, realization dawning.

“Y/N, this is no time for sweet desserts. We must first find the threat.” Castiel reasoned.

“Cas,” Sam laughed, placing a hand on the angel’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure the only threat here is Y/N’s crappy baking”.

“But... I thought she said-“

“Cas,” Dean interrupted, suddenly understanding. “Drop it”

The angel quirked his head in confusion but said nothing more as he lowered his blade, frown still plastered on his face.

“So,” Sam said slowly, trying to ease the mood. “You burnt your...thing?” He scrunched his nose as he nodded at the pile of charcoal.

“Yeah.” Y/N gazed sadly at the pie in her hands. “I have no idea how it happened. It’s only been thirty minutes, I was going to let it bake for the full hour at 500 degrees. I mean-“

“Woah, woah, woah!” Dean interrupted waving his hands in front of him. “Are you crazy? Pie is supposed to bake at 350 for 75 minutes! By setting a lower temperature, you’ll get a crisp crust and moist filling. Basically, a freakin’ delicious pie!”

Everyone averted their gaze to the elder Winchester. It was Sam who broke the silence.

“Dude, how do you even know that?”

Dean turned to his brother carefully. “Sam, unlike you, I have no shame watching Rachael Ray.”

“What are you, a housewife?”

“It’s a guilty pleasure, now shut up!”

“Huh.”

Ignoring the banter, Y/N turned to Castiel. “Hey Cas, I still don’t understand. How did you know I needed help? I didn’t-“ She paused, suddenly recalling the moments before the ‘pie panic’. Y/N was still thinking about Cas’s bingeing and the Winchesters’ demon mishap in Lexington. Her sudden alarm may have inadvertently constituted a prayer to the angel, and her marred thoughts had probably sent him mixed messaging.

“Ah, never mind.” She said as Castiel gazed at her expectantly.

“Anyway, guys I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to burn the kitchen down”

“Yeah well, I hope your apple pie was frickin’ worth it!” Dean scoffed. He then proceeded to drag a chair across the room, plopping himself down with a grunt.

Dean grinned up from his seat. “Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Bring me some pie.”

“Dude, gross.” Sam winced.

Castiel simply rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that’s wise, Dean.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked hesitantly.

“Yes!” Dean drawled throwing his arms up in the air

“Alright, alright!”

Y/N served him a slice, and everyone watched as he lifted a forkful of blackened crust to his lips

Dean paused for a moment as he looked up to his brother and winked.

“Sammy, I get all fuzzy inside when you look at me like that”

Sam only scrunched his nose in apprehension.

Dean grinned before taking a bite of the burnt pastry.

Castiel, Sam, and Y/N continued watching in anticipation as he chewed for a few seconds.

All was silent for a moment...

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed suddenly through a mouthful of pie.

Sam and Y/N laughed as he spit it out vehemently.

“That tasted like- like-“

“Molecules?” Castiel suggested thoughtfully, cocking his head.

“Crap” Dean retorted, staring daggers at the angel before rushing to the fridge for a swig of beer

Sam just grinned, winking at Y/N as he left the room.

Castiel stayed behind eyeing the strange dessert curiously. His brows furrowed as he wondered what made this pie different from any other that Dean had tried before in the past. The elder Winchester typically enjoyed pies immensely.

From behind the fridge door, Dean pointed an accusatory finger at Y/N, bottle of beer still in hand. “Next time you feel like baking pie. Hell, next time you feel like baking period, DON’T!”

Y/N only laughed.

Still retching, the Winchester left the kitchen, punching Y/N’s shoulder playfully on his way out.

“And Cas!” He called from the hall. “Lay off the tv!” Dean paused. “Read a book or... something!” He added as an afterthought.

The angel ignored this and set off to watch the next episode of Doctor Sexy M.D. He wondered if Dr. Piccolo was really going to donate her own spleen to a patient she had fallen madly in love with.

As the angel retreated to his room, Y/N turned back to the abandoned plate of pie still sitting on the table.

“Maybe next time I’ll stick with store bought.”

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Try reading Rhinestone Cowboy!!

Hey everyone! Thanks so much for reading!! If you liked this fic (fingers crossed) PLEASE reach out to me because I’m accepting requests!! You can message me directly or drop one of your fabulous ideas in my Ask box. Okay, I think that’s enough from me today... catch you later!!!

Oh, and before I forget... I write for the following fandoms: Supernatural, Sherlock BBC, Harry Potter (All characters) 

Have a BRILLIANT day!

[vyunok-obyknovenniy]

Regarding Argos, I have a few thoughts (this is going to be a bit long (^▽⁠ ^;⁠))

First of, here's the quote:

(From Fagles' translation) Book 17 Stranger at the Gates <...> Now, as they talked on, a dog that lay there lifted up his muzzle, pricked his ears … It was Argos, long-enduring Odysseus’ dog he trained as a puppy once, but little joy he got since all too soon he shipped to sacred Troy. In the old days young hunters loved to set him coursing after the wild goats and deer and hares. But now with his master gone he lay there, castaway, on piles of dung from mules and cattle, heaps collecting out before the gates till Odysseus’ serving-men could cart it off to manure the king’s estates. Infested with ticks, half-dead from neglect, here lay the hound, old Argos. But the moment he sensed Odysseus standing by he thumped his tail, nuzzling low, and his ears dropped, though he had no strength to drag himself an inch toward his master. Odysseus glanced to the side and flicked away a tear, hiding it from Eumaeus, diverting his friend in a hasty, offhand way: “Strange, Eumaeus, look, a dog like this, lying here on a dung-hill … what handsome lines! But I can’t say for sure if he had the running speed to match his looks or he was only the sort that gentry spoil at table, show-dogs masters pamper for their points.” You told the stranger, Eumaeus, loyal swineherd, “Here—it’s all too true—here’s the dog of a man who died in foreign parts. But if he had now the form and flair he had in his glory days— as Odysseus left him, sailing off to Troy— you’d be amazed to see such speed, such strength. No quarry he chased in the deepest, darkest woods could ever slip this hound. A champion tracker too! Ah, but he’s run out of luck now, poor fellow … his master’s dead and gone, so far from home, and the heartless women tend him not at all. Slaves, with their lords no longer there to crack the whip, lose all zest to perform their duties well. Zeus, the Old Thunderer, robs a man of half his virtue the day the yoke clamps down around his neck.” With that he entered the well-constructed palace, strode through the halls and joined the proud suitors. But the dark shadow of death closed down on Argos’ eyes the instant he saw Odysseus, twenty years away. <...>

The text seems to imply Argos got abandoned a long time ago (or maybe it's the translation, I'm not sure. I don't know the original text)

My question is: did Tele even know, that this was his father's dog? That Odysseus had a dog and that dog was right there in the palace?

A couple possibilities:

Perhaps early into the 20 years of Odysseus' absence, or, more likely, early into the 10 years Odysseus was lost at sea, the suitors would've used Argos for their hunts? But then the moment Argos starts falling behind due to old age, they would quite literally throw him away...

Or

They could've been mistreating Argos because he was Odysseus' dog? They could've been too proud and arrogant to take him to hunt, even if he's better than all their dogs ;-;

The first version could also explain, why Argos wasn't with Telemachus.

"He's an infant. Such a good hunting dog would be wasted by his side"

And then people kind of forget about Argos, since he's with the suitors most of the time, until he gets abandoned again, but it's not like the suitors would make an announcement about this, so Tele might never even know that Argos exists...

And then, after Ody is back and everything settled down, he brings up Argos. Maybe he decides to bury the dead dog properly, not just let the body lay and rot where he died.

Telemachus could be really surprised, as well as feel guilty about not having known and taken care of Argos. He would also be sad and possibly angry, that he never got to spend time with his dad's dog.

Penelope would feel even more guilty, because Argos was hunting with the suitors and she assumed he was fine, until she just... forgot about him...

Odysseus may be a dog person but Penelope is definitely a cat person.

I know we joke about how Odysseus is a "Wet Cat" as it's correct but he really does "show love" and even behaves like a cat to me.

The whole "I only love two people and they're the only ones who can love me without fear of me biting them." as most cats pick "Their person".

My cats are literally the type to be like "Hi! I love you!" all the while they're walking across my work and knocking most shit over, leaving destruction in their wake. Odysseus literally slaughters a bunch of people and then a whiplash of him crying while being held by his wife.

(I also headcanon him as someone who "demands attention" like a cat. Especially from Penelope. "Ima lay my head in your lap even if you're kind of busy." "Ima grab your hand and start kissing your fingers even if you're holding something.")

Odysseus always wants to claim he's like a dog (Loyal, Brave, etc.) but he's not. Penelope has always loved cats, using some string to play with them sometimes even though I don't think Mycenae Greece had cats until later periods, being brought over from Egypt, it's a headcanon, let me have fun and his "wet cat" vibes are what drew her to him in the first place.

[thefirstknife]

Help, I ran Garden of Salvation with some clan mates and i'm Experiencing Great Sadness about the Kentarch 3 again.

I haven't been following you since shadowkeep, and was wondering if you had some theories about what happened, because a lot is left unexplained, specifically about Lisbon-13's motivations. The story from Yardarm-4's perspective shows that something is influencing them before they accept power (stasis teaser?) from the darkness. Do you think they really had a choice? Do you think he was influenced in his decision to kill them? If so, why? As a test just for him? Presumably he's still out there somewhere, and I can't tell from the lorebooks whether Rekkana let him kill her first or not. I just feel so bad for them, they all loved each other. Yardarm probably took the power in the first place to help get them out safely. Do you think it'll ever get concluded? The whole lore series seems interestingly close to what happens with Shayura, just sort of in reverse.

Kentarch 3 fireteam and the whole story on the Garden of Salvation armour and the associated weapons and equipment is amazing and very interesting, I agree. I haven't talked about it before but it's a good thing to revisit every so often! I think there's still a lot we don't really understand, mostly due to not fully understanding the power of the Black Garden.

In short for the general audience, Kentarch 3 was a fireteam that consisted of Yardarm-4 (Titan), Rekkana (Warlock) and Lisbon-13 (Hunter). They went to explore the Black Garden at the behest of the Warlock order called the Cryptochrons which Rekkana was a part of. This order got exiled some time after Osiris for dabbling in prophecies. Cryptochrons were formed around a Oneiromantic Circle and led by a Sibyl (or multiple sibyls; or Sibyl was just a name of one member, it's unclear). Oneiromancy is the practice of interpreting dreams to predict the future and sibyls were ancient Greek female prophets and oracles.

I didn't think this would get long but it did so the rest under the cut:

The Cryptochron order continued operating after its exile and Rekkana received a prophecy from them that revolved around a fireteam learning about the Black Garden and retrieving from it a Vex relic of some sort. The relic is the exotic weapon Divinity and the lore tab on it details the prophecy they were chasing:

"And after any other Cryptochrons they learn of. But your path is more dangerous than most. The Circle has foreseen many fireteams following in your footsteps. You can find the knowledge the order seeks at the Tree."

"Can? Not will?" For the first time, Rekkana sounded concerned.

"The Circle has had limited success in piercing the veil that surrounds the Black Garden, so the order offers no certainties. They say that a group of Guardians will discover secrets about the origin of the Black Garden at the Tree. The Oneiromantic Circle foresees no reason why it will not be the Kentarch 3."

"Nor can I. But…?"

"There is another thread in the tapestry, entwined with this one. The Vex, or some fractal faction of them, worship or honor a… divinity there."

"The Black Heart? It was destroyed."

"Yes, but this is something different. An object. Something like a sacred relic. It is important to the Vex for reasons that we have not yet fathomed. The Circle has determined that it is dangerous—"

"A Vex weapon?"

"Perhaps," the Sybil sounded annoyed at the interruption. "Rekkana, the Circle concluded that it is a danger to you."

"To me? But then, why send me on this mission?"

"When the Circle dreamed of the object, you were beside it."

They agreed that, should they find this object, Lisbon should be the one to carry it. They did find it and he was indeed the one to carry it, as is shown later in another lore tab detailed below.

We know that Lisbon-13 killed the rest of his fireteam because they got corrupted by the Black Garden, something happened to their Ghosts (they all just dropped down and started losing their Light) and then turned on him. He was being hunted and he really had no choice. But he couldn't live with it. In Beyond Light, he's shown trying to kill his Ghost in order to stay permanently dead because he couldn't bear the burden of what he did to his fireteam, even though his actions were justified and he acted in self-defence.

But before he managed to do that, he was faced with his own doppleganger, just like the YW at the end of Shadowkeep. In the end, Lisbon didn't kill his Ghost because the doppleganger offered him power and Lisbon (presumably) chose to take it: his wish was simply to make himself forget about his fireteam (and Rekkana specifically, whom he loved). It's implied that he accepted and after that, we have no formal information what happened.

The outcome of what happened to Kentarch 3 is somewhat known, as detailed in this ship lore. The Vanguard knows Lisbon killed the other two, they're not sure when they lost their Ghosts and they have not found anyone's body, not even Lisbon's. But we know from the lore that came out after that Lisbon accepted the deal with his doppleganger and we have no idea what that entailed. Is he still in the Black Garden? Was he killed? Replaced? Just memory-wiped and sent back? Something else entirely? We'll explore at the end.

I'm pretty sure the voices they heard talking to them were also their own dopplegangers. And it's somewhat implied that they made some sort of a bargain and accepted "new powers" that came "from the wrong side." There's only one description of it:

Her fist glimmered and quaked with an unfamiliar power. She only had to release her grip, and that energy would rip through him, burning without fire.

That's Rekkana attacking Lisbon. It's never fully explained what it is, but it could very well be some sort of prototype Stasis in my opinion. Or some other Darkness power. Not sure why the Black Garden would give them this, which is why I think they simply harnessed the power of their dopplegangers. This is something that's been mentioned a few times in regards to Darkness: duplication. Same is present with the Taken as well (Taken psions duplicate). I mentioned the duplication theme being discussed in Clovis' journal before too.

Honestly, I can't make any definitive conclusion, but Kentarch 3 definitely found something horrifying in the Black Garden and fell to its influence. They also reference doing the puzzles to get Divinity, which they got and Lisbon used it to kill the other two.

Garden of Salvation raid ends with a Pyramid scale opening up and leading us down into the area with the Darkness statue. I think this could've easily been some sort of a lead into the future of Destiny and the powers of Darkness. Kentarch 3 may have accidentally received this power early on or were perhaps some sort of a test the Darkness did on Guardians before offering them Stasis for real.

It's an interesting story and yep, it does mirror Shayura's fireteam and how the story is told! Each member of the fireteam tells the same story from their own POV on armour for that class. I'll link all of them in order, roughly how I think it's best to read each POV:

Rekkana: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Yardarm-4: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Lisbon-13: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

I like how the armour follows the same name pattern: Righteousness, Exaltation, Transcendence, Ascendancy and Temptation.

Associated Garden of Salvation weapons also have some tidbits of lore that might help, namely:

Ancient Gospel Hand Cannon:

"These forces have existed forever, but only one of them speaks to us." —Rekkana, Warlock of the Kentarch 3

Sacred Provenance Pulse Rifle:

"These gifts were not made for us, but we were meant to have them." —Rekkana, Warlock of the Kentarch 3

Zealot's Reward Fusion Rifle:

"Why not use these gifts we've been given?" —Yardarm-4, Titan of the Kentarch 3

I would really like to learn more about them, and specifically Lisbon because he might be able to actually tell us what happened. He or his Ghost, Piri, who managed to survive last we've seen her. I think the Ghost might be able to give the most accurate version of events. It's interesting that Lisbon was very much against whatever power they received and that was the reason he abandoned his fireteam, which made the other two consider him a traitor to their friendship.

Very intriguing lore story that could possibly be mentioned again in some form. Also as a brighter note, yes, Yardarm literally flew into the Black Garden with an entire ship and crash landed inside. On a less brighter note, we've never seen the remains of a ship in there (to be fair, Black Garden is huge) and it's somewhat implied that they entered through the Vex Gate on Mars which puts the timeline of when they got there into question. The Vex Gate on Mars that led into the Black Garden was destroyed in the Red War. The new gate showed up on the Moon in Shadowkeep (and you can't fly a ship into it because it's in a cave).

An additional note which answers certain things when it comes to Lisbon's fate that I hinted at before: in order to acquire the quest for Divinity, you have to go to the Moon to the Vex Gate for the first time. The gate will open up and a Vex mind will come out. This giant Vex minotaur is called Zeteon, Redemptive Mind. Upon killing this minotaur, you receive "Divine Fragmentation" quest. Details of the quest here. You pick up a Vex core that has strange readings coming from it and you have to decipher it by running it through various Vex technology. Once fully completed, you have to go into Garden of Salvation, do the Divinity puzzles and the weapon will drop from the extra chest at the end.

Why am I mentioning this? Well. Zeteon, Redemptive Mind drops a core that contains information about how to get Divinity. Lisbon was the member of the fireteam that held Divinity and used it to kill his fireteam. There's a quote from Lisbon on the weapon called Accrued Redemption:

"I should never have let it come to this. Now each arrow is a penance." —Lisbon-13, Hunter of the Kentarch 3

Divinity's perks are called Judgement and Penance.

Basically, I believe that whatever deal Lisbon accepted that made him forget his fireteam, free him from the suffering and redeem him ended with him being converted into Zeteon, Redemptive Mind. It's the reason why this Vex in particular had the pieces needed to construct Divinity again. Lisbon was the last person who had it. Becoming the bearer of parts needed for Divinity was both his Judgement and his Penance.

Final note because I love ancient languages being used for the names of things in Destiny: "Zeteon" most likely comes from Greek "zeteo" which means:

to seek, search after, look for

to inquire into, examine, consider

to strive for, desire, wish

Probably tied to Lisbon's search and desire for redemption for what he's done. I think that wraps up his fate quite nicely, although tragically.

[five-rivers]

DP/HP twin fic chapter 1

This would be the first chapter of that DP/HP twin fic...  I need a name for it before I post it elsewhere...  I can’t think of a name... help...  @ladylynse I blame you for this entirely.  It’s 3k and they haven’t even met yet.  What am I doing.

.

Here’s the thing.  Danny had encountered wizards before.  And witches.  Multiple times.  

He was not a fan.  

Burning, or other forms of murder, hadn’t ever crossed his mind as a solution to them, even when Freakshow decided to derail his life yet again.  Still. There were only so many times you could stumble upon members of a certain group zapping people with bargain-bin neuralyzers and leaving hours’ worth of uncertain memories in their wake before you got sort of fed up.  

Memory erasure was great in fiction.  Not so much in real life.  

Danny got it.  He’d erased a couple of memories himself.  Well, a lot of memories, depending on how one took the Reality Gauntlet incident.  But as far as motivations went, ‘trying not to be dissected by the government’ was a lot different from ‘we can’t be bothered to be discreet about our sporting events and we think it’s funny that our venue managed to attract ghost hunters when these magicless fools have never seen a real ghost in their lives so we’re going to mess with them.’  

Yeah.  Danny was still annoyed about that.  Also, about their reactions to him when he crossed an invisible line that was apparently supposed to repulse ‘no-majs.’  

That was before getting into Desiree, one of the few witches to become a proper ghost.  According to her, witches and wizards had a different system, and it was rare for magic users to enter the Infinite Realms.  Dora’s dragon amulet had also been enchanted prior to her death, although that could have been a ghost’s work, and Dora had never shared where it had come from.  

Anyway, the point was that Danny knew about magic as an entity separate from ghost powers and at least a small subset of the living beings that relied upon it.  

So, when the woman who dressed like she was living a century ago and smelled of magic walked up to his house, he’d braced himself for a fight.  He wasn’t going to let his parents be ‘obliviated’ again.  They were oblivious enough as it was!

But.  No. She’d come in, no wand in sight (although Danny still wasn’t entirely sure those were necessary) and sat down on the couch, hands primly folded, ignoring all of the… rather questionable features of the Fenton living room.  

To add to the weirdness, his parents had been expecting her.  They knew her by name.  They wanted Danny to be in the room to meet her.  

“Edna,” Jack said, with a strained smile.  “How have you been?”

“Well enough,” said Edna, her eyes flicking to where Danny stood in the kitchen door, watching. “And this must be young Deneb Alased, correct?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, frowning.  There weren’t a whole lot of people who knew his legal name, let alone his middle name.  So, who was this?  “I am.” He looked at his parents, willing them to clear up whatever this was.  

Both of their faces were sour, but they were trying to hide it.  Maddie was doing better than Jack.  

“This is Edna,” said Maddie.  “Why don’t you come and sit down, Danny?”  She patted the back of Jack’s favorite recliner.

Danny noticed how Edna’s mouth twitched down at his nickname. His fingers curled, ghost energy buzzing under his skin just barely kept from his eyes.  He didn’t like this.  

“It’s alright,” said Edna, smiling kindly.  “This must be very confusing for you.  I would be concerned myself, under these circumstances. What I’m about to tell you may be difficult to process, however.”

“We’d like to start it off, actually,” said Maddie. “When you called this morning—” She broke off, making a face.  “We were told this wouldn’t happen.”

“Yes, well,” said Edna.  She shrugged.  “Purebloods. What can you do?  Evidently—Well.  You should have your say, first.”

Danny gave Edna another suspicious glance.  Maybe all wizards weren’t bad.  Maybe Freakshow was an outlier and sports fans just sucked in general.

Yeah, honestly, that tracked.  (Cough, Vlad, cough, Dash, cough.)

He sat down.  “Okay,” he said.  “Way to be ominous.  What’s going on?”

“Well, Danno,” said Jack.  He laughed nervously.

“You’re adopted,” said Maddie, bluntly.

Danny blinked.  “Wait, what?” he said.  “Adopted?  But I look just like you guys!”

Jack’s nervous chuckles continued.  “We are related to your birth parents…  not closely, but…  Yes.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Danny, feeling several layers of personal identity float away from him.  He’d always blamed his weirdness on genetics and family history.  Especially the ghost stuff.  Then again, his name, which definitely did not match with his parents’ or sister’s, probably should have tipped him off.  “You’re serious?”

“I’m afraid so, Danny,” said Jack, kneeling by the chair and patting his knee.  “But don’t worry!  You’ll always be a Fenton, no matter what!”

Danny nodded, swallowing back emotion.  “And Jazz?  Is she…?”

“She’s adopted, too.  At about the same time as you, in fact,” said Maddie.  “So am I and Alicia.  It’s a long story.”

“Okay,” said Danny, determined to get that story at some point.  “Why is she here, then?”

“I was involved in your adoption,” she explained, “and certain members of your birth family want to get back in contact with you.”  

Ancients, that was sure a thing to hit a guy with right after the ‘you’re adopted’ revelation.  

Hold up.  He was forgetting something.  This was a witch.  How did that play into this?  Because it had to.  Witches and wizards, as far as Danny could tell, tended to isolate themselves from the rest of humanity.  

He decided he did not like the probable trajectory of this conversation.  

“Why?” he asked, because he wasn’t going to say he knew about magic until and unless someone else cracked first.  

“Yes,” said Maddie.  “Why?  Why now? We were under the impression that they would never contact us.”

“Evidently,” said Edna, “Deneb’s birth mother was not properly informed of the decision to put him up for adoption.”

Okay.  Yeah. That was a lead-in to his biological parents being magical because he couldn’t think of a single modern western country where that would fly.  

“So, what?  I was kidnapped at birth or something?” asked Danny.

“Not exactly,” said Edna, wincing.  “It was your birth father who filed the paperwork.”

“And she’s only now wondering where Danny is?” asked Maddie, a little shrilly.  Her stress from before was now spilling over into anger so sharp Danny could taste it like a knife on his tongue.  “Did she somehow manage to forget giving birth?”

“No,” said Edna.  “Which brings us to the other matter.  One of the other matters.  The one who first sent the request for your adoption information was actually your twin brother.”

A third monumental revelation.  Wonderful.  What next?

“We, of course, contacted his parents, and discovered the irregularity regarding your birth mother’s consent.  Hence my presence here today.”  She opened her bag and removed a small glass tube, about twice the length of Danny’s palm and the same diameter as a quarter.   “There was also the issue regarding how young you were when you were put up for adoption.  Generally, our agency deals with the placement of children aged from five to eleven.”  She held the tube out to Danny.  “Could you hold this, please?”

“Do you really need to do this?” asked Jack.  

“Due to all the irregularities involved, yes,” said Edna. “Our organization charter unfortunately requires it.  If the mother was not consulted, as is required, the reasoning is that other required things are not as certain.”

“Hold up,” said Danny, hands tightening around the ends of the armrests.  “These people—” Who were most probably wizards, and wasn’t that a thing to get his head around, “—they’re not trying to get custody of me again, are they? After giving me away?”

“No,” said Maddie.  “We won’t let that happen.”

“We’re not going to give him back to people who were going to abandon him just because—!”  Dad broke off.  “Uh. Because.”

Smooth.  

“You know,” said Danny, deciding to cut off… whatever this was. “Even if this ‘test’ is, like…” He trailed off.  “Whatever result you want it to be.  I don’t know.  I’m still going to find out whatever it is you’re dancing around anyway.  Because I’m not going to forget this conversation.”

Silence.  

The witch twitched slightly towards where Danny knew her wand was hidden.  

Screw it.  “And I’m not going to let you erase my memory.  You people do get how messed up that is, right?”

Danny was treated to the sound and sight of three jaws dropping open.  

“How do you-?” started Maddie.  

“You remember when we went to that camp because people thought it was haunted?  But you didn’t find anything?  Well, they managed to get both of you that time, but not me.  And I know you’re one of them, so I’m betting that whatever this is, it has to do with magic.”  He paused. “It was some weird magic sporting event, apparently.”

“The-?  You went to the Quidditch World Cup?” asked Edna.

“What?  No!” protested Maddie.  “That was in Britain, wasn’t it?  We were just in the next state.”  She scowled. “I’m going to write a letter of complaint.  Even if we’re living without magic, we’re not no-majs.  We’re squibs.  They had no right to obliviate us.”

“Okay,” said Danny.  “Yeah.  You’ve lost me.  Squibs?”

No one seemed willing to answer the question.  

“If you’d just take this,” said Edna, holding out the tube a little desperately.  “It will be much easier to explain all at once.”

Danny looked up at his parents.  Jack looked at Maddie.  Maddie drummed her fingers on the back of his chair.  

“It’ll be fine,” said Maddie, “probably.”

“Fine,” said Danny.  He took the tube.  Almost at once, it started glowing green.  

“Oh,” said Edna, frowning and leaning closer.  “It usually isn’t—”

The tube exploded, embedding several small glass shards in Danny’s hands.  

“Ow,” said Danny.  

“Oh,” said Edna again, evidently not registering the small splinter of glass in her cheek.  “Well. Whoever your birth father hired to test your magic as an infant obviously got it wrong.  Congratulations, Mr. Fenton.  You’re a wizard.”

“My hand is bleeding.”

“Yes,” agreed Edna.  “It isn’t supposed to explode, you see.”

.

Once Danny got cleaned up, which involved a lot of glaring at Edna from Maddie and Jack, they adjourned to the kitchen, which was free of random glass shards.  

“The adoption organization I work for,” said Edna, “places squibs—people born to magical parents who do not have magic themselves—with families of squibs.  Assuming the child’s birth parents do want to give up their child over something like not having magic.”  Her nose wrinkled.  “The common wisdom is that it is easier for such children to grow up in an environment that is not explicitly magical.  In any case, it is my personal belief that anyone who would give up a child over something like that isn’t going to be the best of parents.”

“Alright,” said Danny, “so… all of us are squibs.”

“Except you, apparently,” said Edna.  “It’s hard to tell whether or not someone as young as you were when you were given up will be magical or not.  Which is why we usually only deal with older children.  I don’t suppose you’ve noticed anything odd happening around yourself?  Or unusual abilities?”

Danny stared at her flatly for several long moments.  His entire life could be classified as ‘odd,’ and most of it he wasn’t about to share with Edna.  Or his parents, as much as he loved them.

But, on the other hand, he now had a great excuse for at least some of his weirdness.  His parents wouldn’t think ghost if they could think wizard first.

“Like, define ‘odd,’” said Danny.  Despite his earlier encounters with wizards, he had no idea what was normal for them.  Other than memory wiping.  Which he could not do and wouldn’t have demonstrated anyway.  

Okay.  If was actually a wizard, and Edna’s doohickey wasn’t just reacting to his ghostliness, he probably could learn how to do the memory thing, but he didn’t know now, so the distinction was meaningless.  

(Maybe being a wizard or a squib or whatever was why he wasn’t just.  Dead.)

(Yeah, he didn’t want to think about that.)

“Just…  Being in one place, and then a different place.  Surviving something you shouldn’t have been able to unscathed.  Things moving by themselves or changing color or size. Temperature changes.  Something you want very badly happening, even if it is impossible or extremely unlikely.”

“Okay,” said Danny.  “Yeah.”

“To which one?” asked Jack, concerned.  “I haven’t noticed anything like that except what the ghosts do.”

“Um,” said Danny.  “This?”  He put his hand down on the table, intending to leave an icy handprint.  That should be acceptable, right?  If temperature changes were normal…

His nerves got the best of him.  He knew he was nervous showing even one of his powers around his parents.  He overcompensated.  

The table was covered with frost.  

“Oops?” said Danny.  

All the blood had left Edna’s face.  Jack and Maddie didn’t look much better.  

“Dear lord,” said Edna.  “You can do that at will?”

“Yes,” said Danny, holding his hand close to his chest. “More or less.”

“Danny,” said Jack, “why didn’t you tell us?”

“I thought you’d think it was a ghost thing.  You kind of shoot first and ask questions later about ghost things.”

“Oh my god,” said Edna.  “Never mind that.  You can do wandless magic and you’re fourteen?”

“Fifteen,” said Danny, “but, yeah.  I guess.”

Evidently, this wasn’t normal.  

Also, his comment about shooting first hurt his parents’ feelings.  Go figure. Not like they weren’t keeping a massive secret.  

.

“So,” said Danny, once the other discussions had been shelved for the time being, “I have a brother?  I think a brother was, at some point, mentioned.”

“Yes,” said Edna.  “A twin brother.  He wants to meet you.  Along with your biological mother.”

“And if I don’t want to?” asked Danny.  “If I don’t want to have anything to do with them?”

“I don’t even know,” said Edna.  “I can’t believe you slipped under the national detection spell. There’s going to be so much paperwork involved in this.  International paperwork.”

“Huh?”

“You were born in Britain,” said Edna, as if this were a minor detail.  

Yeah.  Like his sense of self needed any further pummeling.  

“But it isn’t our fault everything is so messed up,” said Danny.  He maybe had some curiosity about his twin brother, but if there was any risk he’d be taken away…

“I understand,” said Edna, “but nothing like this has come up before, as far as we know.”  She sighed. “If it makes you feel better, I will use any influence I have in the matter to recommend that you retain custody of Deneb.  In the meantime…  Do you want to, uh, open communications with any members of your biological family?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “Can I think about it?”

.

Relations in the Malfoy household had been strained ever since Draco’s investigation of his family tree (unrelated to the return of the Dark Lord and how blood purity was now much, much more important) had revealed that his twin brother had not, in fact, died at birth.  

And by strained, Draco meant that his parents had taken to living on opposite sides of the manor, interacting only when there were visitors.  Visitors such as his father’s Death Eater friends, members of society, and various government officials.  All of whom were more alike, and had greater overlap, than even Draco had initially suspected.  

This left Draco walking on eggshells between the two of them and wishing for Hogwarts to start again.  Anything he did to please one had to be entirely out of sight of the other, or else they began to fight again.  Truthfully, Draco was more on his mother’s side, all things considered, but his father was the one with the friends, and Draco couldn’t stay home under his mother’s wings for all his life.  Like his dragon namesake, he had to fly.  

Which he would most certainly do.  Soon.  No, he wasn’t hiding from his parents in his room.  That would be ridiculous.  They knew where his room was.  They could find him if they wanted to, and neither of them was anywhere near him.  He knew.  He’d checked.

This made the inarticulate shriek of rage he overheard from his mother all the more concerning.  

It was enough to make him emerge – cautiously! – from his self-imposed exile.  

He was curious.  And stupid.  It got him into enough trouble at school, why not at home?

Also, he really needed to know.  For his own safety.  Tiptoeing around whatever disaster just happened would be impossible if he didn’t know what it was.  

Instead, he tiptoed after his mother.  

His mother, who was angry enough that sparks were coming off the end of her tightly gripped wand.  Green sparks.  

Draco had never actually seen the killing curse in action, but his mother’s face screamed murder all on its own, no magic required, despite the fact that Draco was only catching glimpses of it as she strode towards his father’s half of the house.  

This was going to be bad.  Terrible.  Possibly the kind of event that saw one of his parents in Azkaban and the other in little, tiny pieces all around the smoking room.  

Lucius, for his part, looked paralyzed where he stood, and Draco briefly entertained the notion that Narcissa had managed to cast petrificus totalis on him without moving her wand or speaking the words.

Narcissa planted herself firmly in front of Lucius and glared up at him, seething, her breath making sucking noises as it passed through her teeth.  

She punched Lucius in the face.  The man toppled, clutching his nose.  Narcissa kicked him.

It was a good thing that the Malfoys had no neighbors, because what Narcissa screamed next likely could have been heard for at least a mile.

“He wasn’t even a squib, you lying bastard!”

[moonlit-imagines]

Heirloom (Part 2)

Din Djarin x Fett!reader

warnings:

a/n: lmk if you’re interested in a part 3!

prompt:

part 1

It’d been five years since you’d seen anything but sand, but you did pretty well out there, all things considered. Bounty hunting was in your blood, but this Mandalorian bounty hunter wasn’t interested in anything of the sort at the moment.

So you went from planet to planet, doing favors and tracking down people to assist Mando and the Child on your journey. You couldn’t complain much, he did save you from a lifetime of boredom and despair.

So you helped a frog woman, met more Mandalorians, clashed with a Jedi, and were finally led somewhere useful to conclude the Child’s journey.

“That’s the place, right?” You asked Din as the Razorcrest approached a planet said to have a Jedi “seeing stone.” Grogu sat on your lap, curiously peering up at you and grabbing your thumb.

“Yeah,” he answered with a hint of disappointment in his voice, you couldn’t ignore that, “this is where Ahsoka told us to go. And it might be where our journey with Grogu ends.” You frowned and looked down at the young creature, who was now hugging your arm.

“Don’t worry, little buddy. I could never forget about you.” You scratched the top of his head and kept him steady during the landing. It was a beautiful planet, you admired the scenery as soon as you stepped off the ship. “I could stay here forever, Mando. How about you?”

“Hand him over.” Din instructed with his arms out, waiting for you to give him his pride and joy. You honestly didn’t want to, the kid was growing on you.

“Fine. I should probably get my armor on anyways. Never know what we might run into.” Grogu reached out for Mando as you handed him off, but he decided to walk ahead of you as you got ready. “Hey, come on! At least let me get the breastplate on!” You called out, carefully running up behind him.

“You seem to have it under control.” He shrugged as the two of you began to climb the mountain.

“At least try to be courteous.” You groaned, straightening out your beaten Beskar armor. “Right, Grogu?” The child cooed at the sound of his name. “See? He agrees with me.”

“He just likes hearing his name, we’ve been over this.” Mando told you, watching your helmet envelop your head.

“Feels good to be in my element.” You told him, nearing the final destination. “Not that it ever was, it was just supposed to be.”

“Yeah, well, after Grogu finds his people, I’ll teach you what your father couldn’t. Deal?” Mando offered officially, leaving your beaming smile hidden by your helmet.

“Deal.” You reached your hand out to shake on it, and although it was brief, it did happen. Now you’d reached the stone, which didn’t seem like much. “I guess just,” Mando set Grogu onto the center platform, “yeah, that.”

After a few empty moments, the stone had activated like something you’d never seen before. It was Forcefield protecting the child from any sudden danger.

“Wasn’t expecting that, were you?” You asked Mando while crossing your arms.

“I don’t know what I was expecting.” He admitted, intently supervising his little one. That is, until a ship entered the atmosphere. One unfamiliar to him, but a distant memory to you.

“Holy banthas.” You muttered, removing your helmet in disbelief as Mando began to panic.

“Stay here and protect Grogu.” He instructed as you ran off to the ship’s landing site. “Y/N?! Hey, stop!” You couldn’t stop if you tried. There were two possibilities here. You thought it was too good to be true, but maybe you’d score a ship that was rightfully yours. To be discovered. “Fett, get back over here!”

“I have to get to that ship! This is personal!” You shouted back to him, picking up the pace. It wasn’t long before he discovered he couldn’t do anything at the stone, he might as well help you, the other kid he decided to take under his wing. Mando was really trying to keep up with you, but you were too eager to quit.

The glare of the sun blocked your view of who stepped off the platform, but you’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“If it isn’t my only child, I knew we’d meet again someday.” Boba greeted, causing you to drop your guard and run straight for him.

“I thought you were dead,” you told him as he engulfed you in a hug, but things took a slight turn when you smacked him in the chest, leaving him puzzled, “where the hell did you go?! I was stranded on Tatooine for five kriffing years!”

“Don’t use that tone with me, kiddo.” Your father warned you while Mando awkwardly stood to the side to watch your family drama play out. “I got into some trouble on that sand planet, I couldn’t rope you into it.”

“So you thought that it’d be better for me to become an orphan at ten?” You argued, in a heated rage over the sudden realization that you didn’t have to be scrounging for food and shelter for years on your own.

“I managed just fine when the Jedi killed my father.” Boba and you stood off face-to-face, practically growling at each other.

“Circumstances were different, bounty hunters had your back.” What kind of father would leave his kid to fend for themself when he’d gone through the same thing before?

“What do you call that guy over there?” Your father pointed to Din.

“Just met him a few days back, that doesn’t change the fact that I was alone.” You were about to go on, but a less familiar face came from Slave I to warn you of something, you cut her off just before she could start. “And who the hell is that?”

“Fennec Shand, I owe your dad my life.” She introduced herself with nothing but that, “and I’d cool it for a minute. We’ve got Imps incoming.” The woman pointed skyward at Imperial ships.

“The kid!” Mando gasped, taking off before you tried to do the same.

“Fennec, help the Mandalorian.” Boba instructed, gripping onto his formerly owned armor. “I believe this belongs to me.”

“You’re joking, right?” He sternly stared you down, to which you loudly groaned and tossed him the helmet before removing the various other pieces. “Guess you just don’t care if I get shot, huh?”

“You’re a Fett, you’ll manage.” He assured while finally being able to put his armor back on after all these years. You dismissed yourself promptly to back up Mando against the swarming stormtroopers that you couldn’t wait to knock down. You were never too fond of the Empire.

“Where’s your armor, y/n?” Mando asked, throwing himself in front of you before the blasterfire hit. He saved your life is what he did.

“My old man just robbed me, let’s hope that what you taught me stuck or else I’m not making it off this planet!” You explained, ducking under his arm to take down a few troopers.

“I won’t let that happen, y/n. Not on my watch.” Mando and you continued to fight side by side, providing each other with all the assistance you needed as it rained blasterfire.

“Think the Child is okay?” You questioned while activating a grenade and chucking it towards a horde of hostiles.

“As long as he’s in that Forcefield, he should be safe!” Mando told you as he thinned out the crowd. It wasn’t long before Boba launched a rocket at the airborne cruisers, taking down two birds with one stone. “Nice shot.”

“I was aiming for the other one.” Your father admitted, a triumphant moment swiftly crushed as the Razorcrest was blown to pieces. You yelped at the sight, covering your mouth as you looked to Din.

“Grogu!” You exclaimed while backtracking to the Child, Boba took to his ship while the rest of you went to retrieve him. Just a few seconds too late, dark troopers had kidnapped him and stripped Din of everything he had within the minute. Now, your father tried his best to help, but what could he do when he wasn’t allowed to shoot?

Boba returned to the ground and watched as Mando sorted through the wreckage of his ship.

“I was ashamed.” He said while the two of you were aside.

“Huh?” You gave your father an odd look as you cocked your brow.

“You watched me suffer defeat in such a humiliating way. A malfunctioning jetpack was not the way I imagined I’d go.” Boba admitted, removing his helmet to give you a heartfelt look. “But I knew you could handle yourself out there because you’re a Fett. That doesn’t make it right, but I hope that I can.”

“Oh...I guess we’ll see.” You looked over to Mando, who just found the Beskar spear in the rubble. “At least you can try and one-up your last death, right?” You and your dad chuckled as Mando approached.

It was here that your father explained that he owed the Mandalorian a debt for caring for you, one he’d repay by getting the Child back.

Now, all was not forgiven. Deep down, you would always feel abandoned and betrayed by your father, but maybe the future held something better for you. Just take it one step at a time.

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @lotsoffandomrecs // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi //

[phantomwarrior12]

Dire Need (Ch. 2)

Chapter 1 (Desperation)

When she opens her eyes, the sun is just beginning to creep through the shattered window. For a moment, she forgets where she is, but the firm chest against her cheek swiftly reminds her who she's with.

He's so much more comfortable than sleeping on the ground.

His arms are wound around her, cradling her close as his head is propped against hers. She doesn't dare move for fear of waking him, but some part of her longs to look up. He still has his helmet on, but it's...a comfort, of sorts, to see it above her. He's sleeping so soundly and she rues the moment she'll have to wake him - or perhaps her Ghost will do that for her.

He rams against her shoulder, pointed edge jabbing between her pauldron and chest plate.

"Rise and shine, Guardian! We need to go!"

"What's going on?" Lord Shaxx mumbles softly, slowly lifting his head from hers and she tries to hide her disappointment as she sits a little more upright, cuddling up against his chest, head tucked under his chin as his arms tighten around her and hold her close.

"We need to get going before the Cabal figure out we're hiding out here." Ghost advises.

She wishes he were wrong and she could stay curled up in her Titan's arms. He's so warm and for a moment, she forgets they're on the ground in an abandoned building without their Light - wait. He's still injured, isn't he?

He's still injured!

She jerks back quickly, startling Lord Shaxx as her eyes search his torso for any blood.

"Guardian, what's wrong?"

She gestures to his ribs in a panic, remembering his Ghost had mentioned there being something about cracked ribs. Why hadn't she remembered that last night? Surely that would be the first thing she'd recall before she slept on him. Oh Traveler, no. She might have made things worse.

"Settle down, my little Hunter." His hands firmly rest on either one of her shoulders to hold her in place, forcing her gaze to his features. "I'm alright. You didn't hurt me, Guardian. I promise."

She nods shakily, gaze darting back to his torso before leaning forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him as tightly as she dares. He locks a firm arm around her lower back, his other hand rubbing back and forth between her shoulder blades to soothe her.

She can't lose him.

It's as of he can hear what she's thinking because he gives her a squeeze, adjusting his head so his chin rests atop her shoulder, leaning his head against hers, "It will take more than a building to extinguish my Light, my little Hunter. I'm not going anywhere."

Her fingers ball into fists around the fur along the back of his neck, pressing just a bit closer to his frame as if to affirm that he better not.

"Well...we should probably go somewhere that isn't here." Ghost interjects awkwardly and his Guardian can't help her smile.

"He is right. Do you think you'll let me stand this time?" Shaxx teases the Young Wolf gently as she sits back on her heels.

If she weren't wearing her helmet, she'd give him a chiding look. But she settles for the lightest of punches - more so just pressing her fist against his shoulder with a fraction of a push - in response. She gets to her feet, picking her cloak up off of his lap and securing it in place before she offers him her hand.

"I am not made of glass. Next time, punch like you mean it." He chuckles, taking her hand and allows her to try and help him to his feet - the attempt is in vain. It is no small task to get a Titan up off the ground when they've been severely injured. She grips his hand tightly, trying to pull him up but when it has no effect and it's clear that Lord Shaxx lacks the physical capacity to get to his feet on his own. She moves to his side and kneels down, slinging his arm over her shoulders and grips his wrist tightly as her other arm locks around his waist.

"Perhaps you should just go get some help?" Shaxx suggests, concern building in his voice.

"There isn't any time," her Ghost argues. "Are you ready, Guardian?"

She nods solemnly as she glares straight ahead and braces herself.

"On three," Ghost supplies, more than aware that his Guardian would never leave Shaxx behind, even with the intent of returning. "One...two..three!"

The Young Wolf strains, her quads and calves burning and screaming in protest beneath the weight. She recalls a similar struggle to lift his unconscious frame inside this building the night before. Though, it's not as though she's doing it without any assistance this time. Shaxx is pushing up with his other arm, trying to engage  any of his stiffened muscles until, at last, he's upright, leaning on her as he clutches at his ribcage with a soft cry of pain.

Her legs are trembling but she sets her jaw as she looks up at him.

"I'm alright. Just--"

"Take a moment," his Ghost orders firmly.

"We need to leave," Shaxx protests until the Young Wolf leans her head against his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She nods, catching her breath from the exertion, fingers flexing and easing their hold on his frame for a fraction of a second. In truth, she's ready to collapse. She's so tired, everything feels wrong, so very wrong without her Light.

But she won't tell him that. He has enough to concern himself with - primarily staying alive and not succumbing to any injuries they've missed. Instead, she straightens up, tucking closer to his side to offer more support and guides him toward the door.

He falls silent, only the occasional grunt and huff coming from the towering Titan - the very same sounds she'd been begging for the night before. It's comforting, in a way. He's alive. He's right here. She listened to his heartbeat all night, clung to him as though he were life itself.

They'll be alright, so long as he stays alive.

The trek through the city ruins is long and feels as though it lasts an eternity. Lord Shaxx is in no condition to travel, but they don't have a choice. With the Young Wolf bracing his every step, the two Guardians' Ghosts are relegated to scouting duty. There are still Cabal patrols in the region and there is nothing stealthy about the way they're moving through the streets.

He needs to take a break, she knows that. He hasn't complained but his breathing has become increasingly labored. In all honesty, she could use a break herself, her own injuries aggravated from supporting the Titan. But they can't rest - not until they're outside the city, they'll be safe there...at least, it's what she tells herself.

So when they cross that final border, stepping through the gate of the crumbling walls, she almost smiles. They're in the clear, at least for a little while. Now, now they find somewhere to rest and she'll search for something for them to eat. She's a Hunter, after all. Scavenging for food comes with the territory.

She's jolted from her thoughts when Shaxx stumbles, lurching forward with enough force that he takes both of them down to their knees. He barely braces himself with a hand pressed firmly into earth as the other curls tightly around her pauldron.

Her knees scream in protest from the abrupt collision but she ignores it as she readjusts,  looking over to him immediately. He'd tripped over a rock in his exhaustion, she doesn't blame him in the slightest but what does concern her is the fact he hasn't spoken since they fell. She readjusts her footing, one leg poised in a tucked position against her chest to give her some semblance of stability as she gingerly removes his hand from around her shoulders.

She shifts to sit in front of him, hands cupping the sides of his helmet as she carefully tilts his head up. His chest is heaving, his arms trembling as they struggle to keep him upright.

"I'm alright, Guardian," he manages after a moment, pulling away from her touch to sit back on his heels.

He's not alright. She can see the fabric along his side slowly staining a deep shade of crimson. She needs to get him to cover so she can dress his wounds or he won't last out here. Forcing down the unsettled burn in her chest, her gaze scans the area, finally settling on a cave further into the forest and she gestures toward it.

His eyes follow the movement and clearly, he catches on. "Just a bit further?" He sounds like he's trying to make a joke, though the strain in his voice eliminates any semblance of comedy. He sounds exhausted and in agony all at once. She's never heard his voice waver and crack like it does on that last word.

Oh, Shaxx...

She offers what she can for reassurance: a solitary nod and a subtle tilt to her head. He takes a deep, wavering breath before lifting his arm and she settles at his side once more.

There's an unspoken countdown before they're struggling to their feet. She can't keep doing this. She'll let him rest in the cave for tonight.

Night.

Her eyes lift to the sky and sure enough, the sun is setting. Moving through the city must have taken longer than she thought. They made good time once they were beyond the walls but it's still later than she'd like. More miles between them and the city would be ideal but there's no chance they'll make it much further than this cave in their current state.

Shaxx needs to rest. She needs to tend to his injuries. Hell, she needs to rest, but something tells her she'll be up most the night again. Either keeping watch or ensuring her Warlord doesn't stop breathing in the middle of the night.

It's better than the alternative.

Ghaul's words still echo through her mind, taunting and shattering her dreams. She can't linger on them and yet, it's all she can do. She should have been able to stop him. Zavala's champion. Cayde's favorite Guardian. Shaxx's...well, she won't get into what she is to him. For all the good it's done her, she couldn't protect the Traveler and she couldn't protect her Titan.

As she helps him settle against the wall of the cave, she can't quite help the pang of guilt that tears through her when he growls in pain. He has an uncanny capacity for sensing her emotions as she's cone to find out. Yet, it still startles her when his hand snaps upward, bunching up the material of her cloak along her shoulder within his fist as he lifts his head.

There are no words that slip off his tongue, just a steady, even gaze through visors. She almost feels as though she's being reprimanded before she gathers her wits and gently shifts from her crouched position to kneeling beside him.

She pats his hand on her shoulder and his grip eases, frame going slack against the wall behind him. She begins to remove his chest plate, laying it aside before detaching his pauldrons. If she's going to get to his injuries, she'll have to remove the entire upper portion of his armor and he's in no condition to assist her.

"I always imagined this would occur in a far different scenario," Shaxx mumbles, "You, removing my armor." A soft, raspy laugh slips past his lips and she smiles.

She nods her agreement, gently lifting his right hand, bracing the back of the appendage against her chest plate as she works at the straps holding the gauntlet in place. It all feels...intimate, almost. The way her fingers deftly work over the leather straps, the slow removal of the gauntlet with one hand as the other brushes tenderly along his sleeve, fingertips ghosting over fabric. She can feel his eyes on her as she sets it aside, her fingers entwine with his. Her eyes fixate on the point of contact, hands locked tightly around one another and she squeezes.

"It's alright," he reassures her, squeezing her hand back. It's not nearly as tightly as he usually does, his strength waning in the late hour. It's almost enough to make her forget about the reality of this situation, but the moment is fleeting and vanishing as she realizes she needs to dress his wound sooner than later.

She releases his hand, removing the other gauntlet before helping him work his shirt up over of his head. It's slow going, gingerly working fabric over aching muscles and lacerations - the horn on his helmet is the most difficult to maneuver. It'd be easier if he just took the damned thing off. She should check to see if he has a concussion at the very least but something tells her she won't be prying that metal bucket off his head anytime soon - not out here. He used to remove it, in the Tower. When the sun had set and she's curled up in his bed, he'd press in behind her. His forehead pressed against her shoulder as he held her close against him.

It occurs to her that she hasn't seen his face beyond moonlight. The most she'd make out were the ridges of scars along his torso.

She used to spend hours tracing along the scars. It was the quickest way to fall asleep in his embrace. Sometimes she'd wonder who was more tired - at the speed Shaxx fell asleep, she often assumed it was him.

Her eyes flit along the scars littering his chest and abdomen briefly - the stories he tells her flaring in the back of her mind. Battles alongside Iron Lords, Twilight’s Gap and victories that span lifetimes. He's told her some of them, enthralled her for hours as she'd sit and stare up at him with an awestruck grin behind her helmet in the Tower. He's a good storyteller - animated and loud...she wishes she could hear that same energy now. Instead, he's struggling to remain awake.

She can't think about that right now.

Her eyes dart to the injury along his side, taking in the extent of the damage. It doesn’t appear to be infected, thankfully. She leans back on her heels before tearing off a portion of her cloak, wadding it up and pressing it against the deep laceration. Lord Shaxx jerks with a violent inhalation and she flinches. His hand grips her wrist, harsher than before as he regains his ability to breathe.

She leans her helmet against his, waiting patiently for him to settle so she can continue.  His grip on her wrist is desperate and pleading all at once. Some part of her longs to kiss him, if only to distract the Warlord from the agony singing along his nerves, through his veins. Instead, she pulls her free hand away from the makeshift bandage, resting it firmly on top of Shaxx’s curled around her wrist. His head lifts, shifting from her hand atop his to her visor. He understands all at once and his fingers ease their vice grip, allowing her to adjust the cloth against his side. She gingerly lifts his hand from  her wrist and presses it against the bandage encouragingly.

He needs to hold it in place for this to work.

“I wonder, Guardian, when you’ll just tell me what you want me to do,” he snorts softly, holding the cloth in place.

She tilts her head in an almost playful manner before tearing off another few strips of her cloak.

“I’ll be sure to get you a new one when we regain the Tower,” Shaxx manages, staring at the material in her lap.

She waves him off in an almost dismissive manner before lifting herself up onto his lap. She presses one end of the makeshift bandages to his hand and he grips it, holding it in place so she can begin to wind it around his torso. The Young Wolf has never been one to shy away from close proximity, especially not when it comes to him, but this all feels odd. It’s never this unbalanced - him, half-dressed and her, fully armored. She supposes she can add this to the list of things that feel incredibly wrong after losing her Light.

That’s the other piece she misses in this dynamic. With the Light, she can sense him, feel him through it. Without it, there’s a void that’s disquieting, gnawing and aching all at once in her chest. She can feel him - physically, but not in the same way.

Ghaul will pay for this.

By the time she’s finished patching him up,  Lord Shaxx has drifted off. She watches as his chest rises and falls, a welcome sight after last night’s...well, nightmare.  She can see the physical rise and fall of his chest and that, more than anything, soothes her nerves.

He’s alive.

They’ll be alright.

As she moves to get to her feet, his hand snaps upward, catching hold of her forearm - he was asleep, wasn’t he?

“I need you, not to fight, Guardian - I need you to stay.”

She looks from his grip on her arm to his helmet. He sounds half-coherent, barely conscious. She needs to find supplies...but she cannot refuse him - not now, not ever. So, she sinks back down onto his lap, removing her cloak and draping it over his chest, tucking the frayed edge under his chin. And then she lays her head on his shoulder, cool metal resting cautiously against marred skin. It’s only then that his grip falters and his arms wrap around her feebly.

“Get some sleep,” he coaxes softly, gloved fingers digging into the fabric around her back plates and she presses closer. He must be cold or delirious by this point, but she’ll stay, ensure he rests easily and there are no complications. Ghost will keep watch, he always keeps watch.

So as Lord Shaxx's breathing evens out and his heartbeat thrums beneath her head, the Young Wolf closes her eyes. They’ve always slept the most in one another’s embrace, she only wishes he didn’t always insist on being her bed. It’s not good for his injuries, he should - his grip tightens, his helmet lulling to lean against hers and any reprimanding fades from her mind.

I suppose it’s alright...

She’ll find what they need in the morning, he can rest. It’ll be fine. So long as he’s alive, they’ll be fine.

Sleep well, my Titan.

—————————————

Chapter 3 (Evade)

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Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @genken64 @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 Shaxx's Guardians: @ataraxia101 @squirrel-stars @rain-wolf

[blackkatmagic]

Dooku/Nico, where they each have one of the Skywalker Twins as a padawan

“You what?” Luke says a little too loudly, voice echoing across the Archives.

Nico can see the instinctive, predatory way Jocasta snaps to attention, head coming up like a nexu scenting a wounded nerf, but before she can move to engage he clears his throat delicately, drawing her attention. Jocasta looks over, entirely unimpressed, and raises a brow at him, and Nico raises one back, flicking a pointed glance over at where Dooku is leafing through past mission reports from the planet he’s been assigned to. Half of his attention is trained on Luke, though, and from the suspicious slant to his expression, he’s still convinced that Leia is a bad influence.

Which is ridiculous, honestly. It’s Nico who’s the bad influence. Leia just helps things along.

Jocasta gives him a gimlet stare from across her desk, but after a long moment she rolls her eyes and clearly surrenders to the nonsense that’s about to invade her Archives. That might as well be permission, so Nico smirks and goes back to his diagrams of the palace of the most recent Hutt crime lord to think he can encroach on Republic space and sentient rights, counting down in his head.

It only takes until a count of thirty before there's a scuffle, a yelp, a hiss, and then Leia promptly drags her twin out from a bank of computer terminals and frog-marches him straight towards Nico.

“Master!” she says, not quite too loud, but only because she’s run enough missions with Jocasta working alongside them to have a deep respect for Jocasta’s aim and the vase full of rubber balls she keeps at her elbow at all times. “Master, Luke wants to come with us on our mission.”

Across from Nico, Dooku freezes.

Nico does not stroke his mustache as he sits back, if only because Tae says it doesn’t hide his smirk at all. Instead, he gives Luke a kind smile where the boy is hovering behind Leia, looking hopeful.

“Come with us?” he echoes, perfectly innocent. “You are always welcome on our missions, Luke, and I truly love having the company of another skilled swordsman, especially as few are your sister’s match. And we could likely use the help, given our target. But I'm afraid the decision lies with your Master. I cannot take another Jedi’s padawan without permission.”

“And you aren’t going to get it, Diath,” Dooku says pointedly, turning and rising to his feet to loom over Nico's table. Nico would be more intimidated if he didn’t remember Dooku before he hit his growth spurt, and he raises a brow, deliberately leaning back in his chair. Slouching insouciantly, his old Master might have said, but if anyone has earned insouciant slouching by being an insufferable asshat, it’s Dooku, so Nico has no regrets.

“I won't?” he says, feigning surprise. The way that Jocasta presses a hand over her eyes says he’s going it badly, but Leia is the only one who would call him on it and she currently looks impossibly smug, because she knows precisely what’s happening. “Training with other Masters is an important method of growth for young Jedi, Dooku. Would you really deny your padawan a learning experience?”

On cue, Luke fixes a beseeching look on his Master, all wide blue eyes and tentative hope. Clearly Leia isn't the only one who’s realized what’s happening here.

“A learning experience, no,” Dooku says precisely, looking down his long nose at Nico. “What you run, however, are not missions, Diath, they are disasters. I will not have my padawan getting involved in such things.”

Leia scoffs, folding her arms over her chest, and levels a dark look at the back of Dooku's head. Nico doesn’t waver, simply raises a brow at him and deliberately turns his diagram of the Hutt’s palace around.

“It’s on Nar Kreeta,” he says, perfectly mild. “I do so remember how you love Nar Kreeta, old friend.”

Dooku's face does something complicated, finally settling on contained rage. “You are not dragging my padawan to Nar Kreeta alone, Nico, I refuse—”

Jocasta drops her head onto her desk and quietly thumps her forehead into the wood, radiating disbelieving despair.

“Oh?” Nico says, pouncing on the opening. “Then you’ll come, how delightful. All right, Luke, Leia, off you go. Get your things and meet us at the upper landing platform—”

Dooku splutters. “Diath, I am not—”

It’s entirely useless. Luke and Leia bolt for the main doors, moving faster than Nico can recall seeing them do so before. They're gone in an instant, and Dooku takes one step after them, looking helpless, and then freezes like he just realized he showed a weakness.

If he thinks that’s the sort of thing Nico is bothered by, he forgets that Nico used to grind his face into the mud in the gardens and somehow still appreciates it as a nice face. Snorting, Nico shoves the chair on the other side of the table out with one foot, waving Dooku into it.

“If you keep making that face, it will stick,” he says, more than a little smug. Dooku gives him a dark look, and Nico smirks in return. “Really, Dooku, if you ever let your padawan do anything interesting, you wouldn’t have this problem—”

Dooku settles primly in the seat, snatching the diagrams out from under Nico's fingers. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take advice from someone who had to be rescued by his former padawan and a bounty hunter two weeks ago, along with his padawan,” he says acidly. “If you’re letting her cavort with Jango Fett—”

“I rather think it’s Boba Fett she’s more interested in cavorting with,” Nico says, and pegs Dooku between the eyes with his stylus. Jocasta isn't the only one who cultivated perfect aim during their padawan days. “And it’s bold of you to throw stones when your grandpadawan is Anakin Skywalker, Dooku. I heard all about the run-in with Captain Ohnaka.”

Dooku's grimace is deep, unhappy, and pained, even as he deliberately tucks Nico's favorite stylus into his pocket. “Close your mouth, Diath,” he says, and Nico laughs in his face.

“Back to Nar Kreeta,” he says, raising a pointed brow at Dooku. “Force, but it’s been…twenty years?”

“Fifteen,” Dooku corrects automatically, and then freezes like he’s been caught out.

Nico isn't tasteless enough to keep harping on his victory when they both know that he’s won. Well. He’s not tasteless enough to do it every time, but considering how often Dooku is wrong that has to count for something. “Fifteen, my mistake,” he corrects easily, and when Dooku glances up, eyes narrowed, Nico catches his gaze and holds it. Taking Anakin as a padawan, to fulfill Qui-Gon’s last request, was a good change for him. Nico will admit that without hesitation. Everything that’s come after has only helped. “Do you think that beach is still there?”

Dooku doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but his fingers tighten on the edges of the map, and he looks away.

“Yet more proof that you treat the sacred role of the Jedi as nothing but a joke,” he says derisively. “It’s no wonder your hellion of a padawan is such a bad influence.”

“I seem to recall,” Nico says, “that we were hellions in our own right once. Back before you abandoned your sense of adventure on a mission and never went back for it.”

“You mean when I finally acquired a sense of taste?” Dooku shoots back, and Nico scoffs. He’s out of styluses, but he reaches for a thick book as Dooku starts to rise threateningly—

“Oh, for the sake of the Force and all who dwell in it,” Jocasta says, vastly annoyed, and rounds on them. “Get out of my Archives and flirt somewhere else, the both of you!”

[On AO3]